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THE STORY OF RICO 












Rico stood (IS in a dream and did not stir 


The Story of Rico 


BY THE SWISS WRITER 

JOHANNA SPYRI 

A 11 

Author of Heidi, Chel, 
and many other stories 


TRANSLATED BY 

Helene H. Boll 



Printed in the U. S. A. 


beacon Sextan 

BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS 





Copyright, 1921 
By The Beacon Press 


All rights reserved 


DEC 30 1921 

^C!.A653330 


To 


The Friends of Many Years 
SUSAN S. SHERIDAN, PH. D. 
and 

ELIZABETH W. CLEAVELAND, PH. D. 





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1 


PREFACE 


To Our Boys and Girls: 

If you have read some of Johanna Spyri’s 
books you will not want to wait to hear what 
we would like to say to you, but will want to 
start right off to read the story. If, however, 
you have not read any of her stories, we would 
like to tell you that she was born almost one 
himdred years ago, in a little country called 
Switzerland, which has very high mountains 
and very deep valleys. She loved girls and 
boys and always wanted to write stories for 
them, but she never wrote any until she was 
quite old, and of com*se she did not know how 
to speak English, because the language she 
learned as a child was German. 

The girls and boys who could read German 
liked her stories so well that the woman who 
translated this story decided to write it just as 
Madame Spyri would have written it if she had 
known English. The translator has been care- 
ful to preserve the simple, direct sentences that 
have made this story so attractive to young 
people. 


[vii] 


THE STORY OF RICO 


The translator understands American boys 
and girls, for she has been a teacher for many 
years. She also knows Swiss boys and girls, for 
she has often visited the places which are men- 
tioned in this story. Madame Spyri liked 
American children, and when, in 1898, the 
translator wrote to her for permission to edit 
“ Rosenresli ” for high school students who 
study German, Madame Spyri, in granting the 
request, replied: “I want to have big and little 
friends in America.” 

We know that you will like this story for the 
author wrote about children whom she really 
knew, and you too will feel that you actually 
know the people and the places mentioned. 

The Publishers. 


[viii] 


CONTENTS 
Part I 

School Days in the Mountains 


Page 


Chapter I 

In the Silent House . . . 

1 

Chapter II 

Happy Days at School . 

6 

Chapter III 

The Old Schoolmaster’s 
Violin 

13 

Chapter IV 

The Distant, Nameless 
Lake 

22 

Chapter V 

Rico Learns the Name of 
his Lake 

27 

Chapter VI 

Grandmother Tells about 
Rico’s Mother . . . 

31 

Chapter VII 

A Precious Inheritance . 

35 

Chapter VIII 

On the Silser Lake . . . 

41 

Chapter IX 

Mysterious Happenings . 

47 

Chapter X 

Stineli Tells a Secret . . 

52 

Chapter XI 

A Long Journey .... 

56 

Chapter XII 

A Stranger Helps the 
Little Wanderer . . 

67 


Cix] 



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PART I 


School Days in the Mountains 





CHAPTER I 
In the Silent House 

N the Upper Engadine, near the road 
which leads up the Maloja, lies a lone- 
some little village — its name is Sils. 
From there one leaves the road and 
goes across the field, and behind, quite 
close to the mountain, lies a small hamlet to 
which the name of Sils-Maria has been given. 
There stood, a little distance in the field, two 
little houses opposite each other. Both these 
little houses had ancient wooden house-doors 
and tiny windows placed deep in the wall. 
Beside one of the houses was a small garden, 
in which grew vegetables. There also were 
four flower-pots, the flowers of which were lean 
and lanky like the vegetables. Near the other 
house was nothing except a small bam; near 
the door, two hens strutted in and out. This 
house was a good deal smaller than the other 
and the wooden door was black from age. 

Every morning, about the same time, a tall 
man came out of this door, which was so small 
that he had to bend to get out. The tall man 
[ 1 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

had very black, glossy hair and black eyes, and 
beneath the well-formed nose began a dense, 
black beard, so that nothing could be seen of 
the rest of the face except the white teeth 
which flashed between the hairs of the beard 
when the man sometimes spoke; which, how- 
ever, happened rarely. 

All the people in Sils knew the man but no 
one called him by name. With everyone he 
went by the name of the Italian. He regu- 
larly went along the narrow path across the field 
towards Sils and up the Maloja. Much road- 
building was going on there and the Italian 
worked there. But when he did not go up the 
road, he went down toward St. Moritz. There 
houses were being built and there also he found 
work. There he remained during the day and 
only returned in the evening. Usually, when 
he stepped out of the door in the morning a 
small boy stood behind him, who remained 
standing on the threshold when the father was 
outside, and looked with his large dark eyes 
after him or elsewhere, one could not say 
where; for it seemed as if those dark eyes 
looked beyond everything that lay before them 
and at something which no one else could see. 

On Sunday afternoons, when the sun was 
shining, both stepped out of the little house 
[ 2 ] 


IN THE SILENT HOUSE 

and walked side by side up the road. And if 
one looked at them, one saw the same thing 
in two forms, only in the boy everything was in 
miniature; but it was like a piece of the father, 
up to the black beard which the child did not 
yet have, only a narrow, pale little face was to 
be seen, with the well-formed little nose in the 
centre, and around the mouth was something 
sad, just as if it did not care to laugh. 

When now the two were walking thus side 
by side, neither said a word to the other. The 
father usually hummed a song, often he sang 
louder, and the little boy listened. But when 
it was raining on Sunday, then the father sat at 
home in the little house on the bench near the 
window, and the little boy sat beside him and 
again they said nothing to each other. But 
sometimes the father pulled a harmonica out of 
his pocket and played one tune after another, 
and the boy listened attentively. Sometimes 
he would take a comb or a leaf and bring forth 
melodies, or he would carve a piece of wood in 
shape and whistle a song on it. It seemed 
that there was nothing from which he could not 
extract music. But once he had brought a 
violin home, which so delighted the little boy 
that he could not forget it. The father had 
played many airs and melodies on it and the 
[ 3 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

little boy had steadily watched him, and had 
not only listened, but when the father had put 
away the violin, the little boy had softly taken 
it and had tried to see how the melodies were 
drawn from it. And the father had smiled and 
had said: “Well, then, come,” and had placed 
his big fingers on the little ones with his left 
hand, and with his right he had taken the boy’s 
hand and the bow in his own, and so they had, 
for a long time, continued to fiddle all kinds of 
melodies. 

The next week, when father was away, the 
little boy tried to play, and finally he really 
did play a melody. Then, one day the violin 
disappeared and was never seen again. At 
times when they were sitting together, the 
father began to sing, at first softly, then al- 
ways more distinctly. Then the boy joined 
in and when he could not sing the words, he 
sang the tunes, for the father always sang in 
Italian, and the boy understood much, but did 
not know the words well enough to sing them. 
There was however one melody which he knew 
better than the others, for his father had sung 
the song a hundred times. It belonged to a 
long song which began 
“Una sera 
La Peschiera — ” 

[ 4 ] 


IN THE SILENT HOUSE 

It was a quiet, pensive melody, from which 
someone had written the juvenile romance so 
that he sang it always with delight and quite 
devotedly, and it sounded well, for the little 
fellow had a voice as clear as a bell, and it 
blended well with his father’s rich bass. Every 
time that they sang this song, the father patted 
the little one on the shoulder and said; “ Bene, 
Henrico, va bene.” (Good, Henry, that’s 
good.) 

It was only the father who called the boy 
“Henrico,” by everyone else he was called 
“Rico.” 

There was also an aunt who lived in the 
household; she mended and cooked and kept 
things in order. In the winter she sat near the 
stove and span; then Rico always had to think 
out, how he could arrange his outings, for as 
soon as he opened the door, the aunt said: “Do 
leave the door alone, it is getting quite cold in 
the room.” Often he was alone for a long time 
with the aunt because his father had work 
somewhere below in the valley and stayed 
away for many weeks at a time. 


[ 5 ] 


CHAPTER II 
Happy Days at School 

CO was approaching his ninth year. 
He had attended school for two win- 
ters, for in summer time there was no 
school there in the mountains, for then 
the schoolmaster had to look after his 
fields, had to cut hay and to hoe just like 
everybody else, for no one had time for school 
in the summer. But this did not trouble Rico, 
he knew how to entertain himself. In the 
morning he would often stand in front of his 
house, until the door of the house across the 
road opened, and a little girl came out and 
looked laughingly across to him. Then Rico 
would run quickly to her, for the children had 
much to tell each other since last evening, 
when they had parted, just before Stineli was 
called into the house. 

The girl’s name was Stineli and she was the 
same age as Rico; they had walked to school 
together and were in the same class, and they 
had been always together; for it was only a 
small distance between their homes, and they 
were the best of friends. 

[ 6 ] 



HAPPY DAYS AT SCHOOL 

Rico had only this one friend, among the 
boys round about he had none, and when they 
fought and threw each other on the ground 
and stood on their heads, he went away and 
did not even look back. But when they 
shouted : “ Now we will give Rico a good whip- 
ping,” then he stopped, stood very straight, 
but did nothing; for with his large dark eyes 
he looked so strangely at them that no one 
came near him. 

But he was happy with Stineli. She had a 
little snub nose, and above it a pair of brown 
eyes which were always laughing, and she had 
two brown plaits tight around her head, which 
looked very neat, for Stineli was a neat girl 
and knew how to help herself. Stineli who was 
about nine years old, was the oldest, and so had 
to help her mother the whole day long, for 
much had to be done. For after Stineli came 
Trudi and Sami and Peterli, and then Urschli 
and Anne-Deteli and Kunzli, and then there 
was the baby who had not yet been christened 
and therefore had no name. Stineli was called 
from all sides, and through having to help here 
and there and run hither and thither the whole 
day long, she had become so quick that every- 
thing was done as if of itself. She had put on 
three stockings and two shoes and tied them, 
[ 7 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 
before Trudi, who was to help one of the chil- 
dren, had brought the legs into the right posi- 
tion. And when the little ones called Stineli 
in the room and at the same time the mother 
called her from the kitchen, then the father 
shouted from the barn to Stineli for he had lost 
his cap, or the whip was entangled, and Stineli 
had to help him, for she found the cap at once, 
it was usually on the feed-box, and her nimble 
fingers quickly untwisted the whipcord. 

So Stineli was always on the run or working; 
but she always was quite happy and cheerful 
with all, and in winter she was glad about the 
school for then she walked there and back 
again with Rico, and at recess they also walked 
together. And in the summer she was happy 
again, for there were the beautiful Sunday 
evenings when she could get out, then she went 
for a walk with Rico, who had been waiting for 
a long time at his door. Then they took hold 
of each other’s hands and ran over the large 
meadow to the wood-covered height which 
extends far into the lake like an island. There 
they sat beneath the fir-trees and looked down 
into the green lake, and they had so much to 
tell and to ask, and they felt so happy that 
Stineli was glad the whole week, and through 
everything, for Sunday always came again. 

[ 8 ] 


HAPPY DAYS AT SCHOOL 

But there was still another person in the cot- 
tage who now and then called for Stineli, that 
was the old grandmother. But she did not 
call for Stineli to help her; she wanted to 
give her perhaps a small coin which she hap- 
pened to come across, or something else, for 
Stineli was her favorite, and she saw more than 
anyone else how the child had to work for her 
age. Therefore she liked to give her a little 
money so that Stineli, like other children, 
could buy something when fair-time came 
round, perhaps some red ribbon or a needle- 
case. Grandmother liked Rico too, and she 
liked to see the two together, and sometimes 
she helped so that Stineli could stay a little 
while with Rico. 

In the smnmer evening, grandmother always 
sat before the cottage on the wood log which 
lay there, and Stineli and Rico stood by her 
and she told them stories. When the prayer- 
bell began to ring from the little church tower, 
then the grandmother said to the children: 
“Each of you must now say the Lord’s prayer, 
and you must never forget that you must pray 
the Lord’s prayer; that is why the bell rings.” 
“And you see, children,” the grandmother 
would say now and then, “I have lived a long 
time and have seen much, and I do not know 
[ 9 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

one single person, who had no need of the 
Lord’s prayer once in his life, but I have known 
many a one who has sought it in great fear, 
and has no longer found it when need came.” 
Then Stineli and Rico stood there very 
devoutly, and each said the prayer. 

Now May had come and school had to be 
kept a while longer, but it could not be for 
long, for things were sprouting under the trees 
and long stretches were free from snow. 
Rico was standing in the doorway and was 
thinking these things. Then he looked at the 
door across the way and wondered if it was not 
going to be opened. Now it opened and 
Stineli came jumping out. 

“Have you stood there long? Have you 
again been surprised at something, Rico?” she 
called out, laughing heartily. “Do you see, it 
is quite early today, we can walk quite slowly.” 

Now they took each other’s hands and 
walked toward school. 

“Are you still thinking of the lake?” 
Stineli asked. 

“Of course,” Rico assured her with a serious 
face, “and I sometimes dream of it, and I see 
such large, red flowers and across it I see the 
violet mountains.” 

“Oh, what one dreams only once, never 
[ 10 ] 


HAPPY DAYS AT SCHOOL 

comes true,” Stineli said quickly. “I once 
dreamed that Peterli was climbing all alone up 
the very highest fir-tree, and when he was sit- 
ting on the topmost branch, it was a bird, and 
he called down: ‘Stineli, put on my stockings.’ 
Now you can see that it is nothing.” 

Rico had to think deeply, how that could be, 
for his dream could not be true and yet it was 
like something that returned to his mind. 
But they had now arrived at the schoolhouse, 
and a large crowd of children came noisily 
from the other side. They all entered together 
and soon after the schoolmaster came. He 
was an old man with thin gray hair, for he had 
been teacher for so many, many years that his 
hair had turned gray and had fallen out. 
They now began in good earnest to spell and 
make syllables, then came the 1X1, and last of 
all came the turn for singing, and all sang with 
full voices : 

“You lambkins come down 
From sun-covered height. 

The day is departing. 

It soon will be night.” 

And the teacher played on his violin. 

But Rico looked so intently at the violin 
and the teacher’s fingers watching how he 
[ 11 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

touched the strings, that he forgot to sing and 
did not utter another sound. Now, all at once, 
the whole herd of singers fell gradually to a 
whole half tone lower; then the violin too began 
to be shaky, and now all the singers flatted 
still more, and one cannot know how low they 
would have gone, had not the teacher thrown 
the violin on the table and cried angrily: 
“What kind of singing is that! You senseless 
screamers ! If I only knew who sings so 
wrong and spoils my song!” 

Then a little fellow, who sat next to Rico, 
shouted: “I know why we sang so, it always 
goes like that when Rico stops singing.” 

“Rico, Rico, what do I hear.^” the teacher 
said seriously, turning to the former. “You 
are usually a good boy, but inattention is a 
great mistake, you have heard it now. One 
single inattentive scholar can ruin the sing- 
ing of a whole class. Now we will begin once 
more, and now Rico, pay attention.” 

Rico now began with firm clear voice and the 
violin followed his lead, and all the children 
sang with all their might to the very end, so 
that it really was a pleasure to listen. This 
satisfied the teacher, who rubbed his hands and 
added a few firm strokes on the violin, and 
said contentedly : “Ah! it is a fine instrument.” 

[ 12 ] 


CHAPTER III 
The Old Schoolmaster's Violin 

UTSIDE, Stineli and Rico had freed 
themselves from the crowd and started 
together on their homeward way. 

“Rico, did you stop singing because 
you were astonished at something.'^” 
asked Stineli. “Did the lake come into your 
thoughts.^” 

“No, something else,” said Rico. “I know 
now how one plays ‘You lambkins come 
down.’ If I only had a violin.” This wish 
must have been close to Rico’s heart, for it 
came out with a deep sigh. Stineli was 
at once full of compassion and venturous 
thoughts. 

“We will buy one together,” she suddenly 
cried with great joy of the help that had come 
into her mind. “I have many coins which 
grandmother has given me. I think I have 
as many as twelve, how many have you?” 

“None at all,” Rico said sadly. “Father 
gave me a few before he went away. But my 
aunt said that I would only spend them, and 
[ 13 ] 



THE STORY OF RICO 
has taken them and locked them in her chest 
up in the attic.” 

But Stineli did not lose heart. “Perhaps 
we have enough money, and I am sure grand- 
mother will give me a little more,” she said 
comfortingly. “Do you know, Rico, I do not 
think that a violin will cost much ; it is nothing 
but wood with four strings pulled tight on it, 
that cannot cost much. You must ask the 
teacher tomorrow what his violin has cost, and 
then we will look for one.” 

So it was arranged, and Stineli thought that 
she would do at home all she possibly could, 
and she would get up quite early and kindle the 
fire before her mother was up; for when she 
kept on doing something extra early and late, 
then her grandmother often stuck a coin in her 
pocket. 

The next morning when school was out, 
Stineli went out alone, and she stopped at the 
corner of the schoolhouse and waited for Rico, 
who was now to ask the teacher about the 
violin. He did not come out for very long and 
Stineli kept peeping about with increasing im- 
patience from behind the woodpile; but it was 
only the other boys who were still standing 
here and there. But finally, Rico came from 
behind the woodpile. Now he was here! 

[ 14 ] 


THE OLD SCHOOLMASTER’S VIOLIN 

“What did he say that it cost?” Stineli 
called out to Rico, holding her breath with 
expectation. 

“I did not like to ask,” Rico answered 
despairingly. 

“What a pity!” said Stineli and stood there 
quite dumbfounded, but not for long. “It 
does not matter, Rico,” she said, quite happy 
again, and took his hand to go home, “you can 
ask tomorrow. I have this morning received 
another penny from grandmother, because I 
was up when she came into the kitchen.” 

But things went the same way the next day 
and the day after. Rico stayed every day half 
an hour before the teacher’s door and did not 
go in to ask his question. Then Stineli 
thought: “If he does not ask for another three 
days, then I shall ask the price.” But on the 
fourth day when Rico again stood hesitatingly 
before the door, it opened suddenly, and the 
teacher came hastily out, and gave Rico such a 
push that the slight little fellow flew several 
steps backward. The teacher stood there 
much surprised and rather angry. “What 
does that mean, Rico?” he asked when the boy 
stood in his old place again. “Why do you 
come to a door and do not knock, if you have 
some business there; if you have nothing to 
[ 15 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

do there, why don’t you go away? But if 
you have a message for me, then you can give 
it to me here. What do you want?” 

“How much does a violin cost?” came from 
Rico’s mouth in great haste, because he was 
afraid. 

The schoolmaster’s displeasure increased 
visibly. “Rico, what shall I think of you?” 
he asked with a severe countenance. “Do 
you come to your teacher’s door to ask useless 
questions, or have you some purpose? What 
did you mean to say by that?” 

“I did not mean to say anything,” Rico said 
shyly. “I only wanted to ask, what a violin is 
worth.” 

“You did not understand me, Rico, now pay 
close attention to what I tell you : a person says 
something and has a purpose in his mind; if he 
has no purpose, they are useless words. Now 
listen well, Rico. Did you put the question 
without any purpose, or from curiosity, or did 
someone send you, who would like to buy a 
violin?” 

“I should like to buy one,” said Rico, some- 
what more decisively; but he was much fright- 
ened when the teacher in great anger cried : 

“What, what do you say? Such a — ^lost, 
senseless, foreign little boy as you are, wants to 
[ 16 ] 


THE OLD SCHOOLMASTER’S VIOLIN 

buy a violin? Do you know what a violin is? 
Do you know how old I was and what I had 
learned before I could buy a violin? I was 
teacher, a full teacher, twenty-two years old, 
and had my appointment! And a little fellow 
as you are! And now I will tell you what a 
violin costs. I have paid six hard florins for it. 
Can you imagine the amount? Let us see how 
many blutzgers that would make: one florin 
has one hundred blutzgers, then six florins 
must be six times one hundred. How many 
are there? How many? Well, Rico, you are 
not usually one of the stupid ones. How 
many?” 

“Six hundred,” Rico said softly, for his voice 
refused him obedience from pure fright, when 
he comprehended the number and compared 
Stineli’s twelve blutzgers with it. 

“And then, little boy, what do you think?” 
the teacher continued. “Do you think that 
one just takes the violin in his hand and it be- 
gins to make music? No, indeed, something 
else has to be done before one can play. Come 
in here,” — ^and the teacher opened the door 
and took the violin from the wall — “there, 
take it in your arm and the bow in your hand; 
so, little boy, and if you can bring out c, d, e, f, 
I will give you half a florin.” 

[ 17 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 
Rico had really the violin in his arm; his eyes 
shone like fire; c, d, e, f, he played firmly and 
quite correctly. 

“You rogue!” the teacher exclaimed with 
astonishment. “Who has taught you that? 
How can you find the notes?” 

“I can do something else if I may play it,” 
said Rico and looked longingly at the instru- 
ment in his arm. 

“Play it!” said the teacher. Now Rico 
played with all firmness and eyes beaming with 

joy: 

“You lambkins come down 
From sun-covered height, 

The day is departing. 

It soon will be night.” 

The teacher had sat down on a chair and had 
put on his glasses. He looked with serious 
study now at Rico’s fingers, then at his spark- 
ling eyes, and then back to the fingers. Rico 
had finished. 

“Come here, Rico!” 

The teacher moved his chair into the light 
and Rico had to stand directly in front of him. 
“So, now I have to talk with you. Your 
father is an Italian, Rico, and you see, down 
below all kinds of things happen of which we 
[ 18 ] 


THE OLD SCHOOLMASTER’S VIOLIN 

here, in the mountains, know nothing. Now 
look right in my eyes and tell me uprightly and 
truthfully, how you managed to play this 
melody without mistake on my violin.” 

Rico looked at the teacher with open, truth- 
ful eyes and said: “I have learned from you, 
how to play the verses in the singing lessons 
where we sing them so often.” 

These words gave the matter a quite differ- 
ent turn. The teacher rose and walked a few 
times up and down the room. Then he him- 
seK was the cause of this wonderful phenome- 
non; there was, then, no witchery. With a 
reconciled mind he drew his purse from its 
keeping-place and gave Rico a half -florin, say- 
ing: “Here is your half -florin, Rico, it is yours 
by right. Continue as you have begun and 
pay close attention to the violin playing as long 
as you go to school, then you can bring it to 
something, and in twelve or fourteen years the 
time will have come when you, too, can buy a 
violin. Now you may go.” 

Rico cast one more look at the violin, then 
he went out with a very sad heart. 

Stineli came from behind the woodpile. 
“This time you have stayed a long time. 
Have you asked 

“Everything is lost,” said Rico, and his eyes 
[ 19 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

came so close together from trouble, that a 
thick, black line was over both eyes. “A 
violin costs six hundred blutzgers and in four- 
teen years I may be able to buy one, when 
everyone is long since dead. Who would 
want to be alive in fourteen years. There, you 
may have that, I do not want it.” With these 
words he pressed the half -florin into her hand. 

“Six hundred blutzgers!” repeated Stineli, 
full of horror. “But who gave you this piece 
of money .^” 

Rico now told her everything that had hap- 
pened at the teacher’s house and said again the 
words of greatest sorrow: “Now everything is 
lost.” 

Stineli wanted to give him back the half- 
florin, as a small comfort; but he was quite 
angry with the innocent half -florin and refused 
to take it. 

Then Stineli said: “I will put it with my 
blutzgers and we will share in the money 
together, and everything belongs to us both.” 

This time Stineli too was very downcast, but 
when she came with Rico around the corner, to 
the field-path, the narrow path lay so beautiful 
in the sun up to the cottage door, and in front 
of the door the spot shone so white, that Stineli 
cried out: “Look, look, summer is coming, 
[ 20 ] 


THE OLD SCHOOLMASTER’S VIOLIN 

Rico, and we can go again into the woods 
above, then you will be glad again. Shall we 
go next Sunday?” 

“I shall never be glad again,” said Rico, 
“but if you want to go I will go with you.” 

At the door it was decided that they would 
go across to the forest height, and joy was 
again on top in Stineli. During the week she 
did what she could, and that was much. Peterli 
and Sami and Urschli had the measles, and in 
the barn a goat was sick, 'and had to have hot 
water very often. Stineli had to run here and 
there and lend a hand everywhere, as soon 
as she came from school, and Saturday the 
whole day, until late in the evening, and even 
then she had still to clean the feeding-pail. 
And the father said in the evening: 

“Stineli is real handy.” 


[ 21 ] 


CHAPTER IV 
The Distant, Nameless Lake 

HEN Stineli opened her eyes on the 
Sunday morning she had a great joy 
in her heart, and at first she did not 
know the reason, until she remembered 
that it was Sunday, and that her grand- 
mother had said late in the evening: “Tomor- 
row you must have the whole afternoon; it 
belongs to you.” 

Wlien the midday meal was over, and 
Stineli had put away all the plates and dishes, 
and had washed the table, Peterli called out: 
“Come to me, Stineli!” and the two others in 
bed shouted: “No, come to me!” and the 
father said: “No, Stineli must look after the 
goat.” 

But the grandmother went out into the 
kitchen and beckoned to Stineli. “Go now,” 
she said. “I will look after the goat and the 
children, and when the evening bell rings, then 
you both will come home.” The grandmother 
knew that there were two of them. 

Now Stineli shot away like a bird, for which 
[ 22 ] 



THE DISTANT NAMELESS LAKE 

one has opened the cage door, and across the 
way stood Rico, who had already waited a long 
time. Both marched over the meadows to- 
ward the wood-covered height. The sun was 
shining on all the mountains and the blue sky 
was over them. On the shady side they had to 
walk a little in the snow until they came higher 
but the sun rose and it shone on the lake, and 
there were lovely dry places on the mountain 
side, right over the water. There the children 
sat down; a sharp wind was blowing over the 
height and sang around their ears. Stineli was 
filled with pleasure and joy. She kept on cry- 
ing: “Look, look, Rico, the sun! Oh, how 
beautiful! Now summer is coming; look how 
the lake glitters. There cannot be a more 
beautiful lake than this one,” she said con- 
fidently. 

“Ah, Stineli, you should just see the lake I 
mean,” and Rico looked over the lake so lost in 
thought, as if that which he should like to see 
was there where nothing could be seen. “You 
see there are no such black fir-trees with nee- 
dles; there are such shiny green leaves and large 
red flowers, and the mountains do not stand so 
high and black and so near, they are far beyond 
the lake and are quite violet, and in the sky 
and on the lake everything is golden and still 
[ 23 ]] 


THE STORY OF RICO 


and warm; there the wind does not act so, and 
one’s shoes are not always full of snow, and one 
can always sit on the ground and look around.” 

Stineli was quite drawn along; she already 
saw the red flowers and the golden lake before 
her, that must indeed be so beautiful. 

“Perhaps sometime you may go there again 
and see the golden lake and everything; do you 
know the way?” 

“One goes up the Maloja, I have been there 
with my father; and there he pointed out the 
road to m^, it goes down the whole mountain, 
always winding round and round, and far 
below is the lake, but so very, very far, that 
one can hardly get there.” 

“Oh, that is quite easy,” said Stineli, “you 
must just keep on walking, then you will surely 
get there at last.” 

“But father has told me something else, you 
see, Stineli : if one goes a long way, and one goes 
into an inn and eats and sleeps there, then 
one must pay, and so one must always have 
money.” 

“Oh, we have a lot of money,” cried Stineli 
triumphantly. But Rico did not triumph with 
her. 

“That is just as good as nothing, I know 
that from the violin,” Rico said sadly. 

[ 24 ] 


THE DISTANT NAMELESS LAKE 

“Then stay home, Rico, see, it is beautiful 
at home.” 

Rico sat quite thoughtful for a while, his 
head resting on his arm and his eyebrows met. 
Now he turned again to Stineli, who had been 
pulling up the tender, green moss, and was 
making a little bed of it, two pillows and a 
cover. She was going to bring them to sick 
Urschli. “You say, Stineli, that I should 
stay at home; but do you see, I feel as if I do 
not know where I am at home.” 

“What do you say?” cried Stineli, and threw 
a whole handful of moss away from pure aston- 
ishment. “Here you are at home, of course. 
One is always at home where one has father 
and moth — ” here she suddenly stopped. 
Rico had no mother and his father had gone 
away a long time ago, and the aunt — Stineli 
never came near the aunt, she had never given 
her a kind word — she did not know what to 
say. But Stineli could not remain long in such 
an uncertain mood. Rico had again begun to 
wonder. Suddenly she seized his arm and 
cried : 

“ I should like to know something. What is 
the name of the lake where it is so beautiful?” 

Rico thought for a while. “I do not know 
the name,” he said, being surprised himself. 

[ 25 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

Then Stineli proposed that they should ask 
someone what it was called, for if Rico ever 
got enough money and could go, then he would 
have to ask for the road, and to do that, he was 
obliged to know the name. 

Now they began to consult whom they could 
ask: the teacher or the grandmother. Then 
Rico thought that his father would know best 
and he would ask him as soon as he should 
return. 

Meanwhile time had sped and suddenly, far 
away, the children heard the faint ringing of a 
bell. They knew the tone, it was the prayer- 
bell. Both jumped up and they ran hand in 
hand through shrubs and down the hillside and 
over the meadow, and the bell had not stopped 
long when they stood before the door where the 
grandmother was looking for them. 

Stineli had to go into the house at once and 
the grandmother said quickly to Rico: “You, 
too, go right into the house and do not stay 
before the door.” 

The grandmother had never told him that 
before, although he always did so, for he had 
no desire to go into the house, and he always 
stood for some time outside the door, before 
he opened it. But he obeyed the grandmother 
and went in at once. 

[ 26 ] 


CHAPTER V 

Rico Learns the Name of his Lake 

HE aunt was not in the room, so Rico 
went out again and opened the kitchen 
door. There she was, but before he 
could enter, she lifted her finger and 
said: “Bst! Bst! don’t open and shut 
all doors and do not make such an awful 
noise. Go into the living-room, and keep 
quiet. Your father lies up-stairs in the bed- 
room; they have brought him on a wagon, he 
is ill.” 

Rico went in and sat down on the bench, 
which was along the wall, and did not move. 
So he sat a good half hour. The aunt was 
rummaging about the kitchen. Then Rico 
thought he would go quite softly and look into 
his father’s room. His father might want to 
eat something for supper, for supper-time had 
long passed. 

He crept behind the stove and up a narrow 
stair into the room. After a short time he 
came back again and went at once out into the 
kitchen and to the aunt. Then he said softly: 
“Aunt, come!” 


[ 27 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

The latter was on the point of yelling at him 
when her glance fell on his face: it was deathly 
pale ; cheeks and lips were like a sheet, and his 
eyes looked so black that the aunt was almost 
afraid. “What is the matter.^” she asked 
hastily, and followed him involuntarily. He 
went softly up the stairs and into the room. 
There lay the father on his bed with fixed eyes; 
he was dead. 

“Oh, oh,” screamed the aunt, and screaming 
she ran out of the door on the other side of the 
room which led to the passage, down the stairs, 
and straight across the road and into the other 
house, and begged the neighbor and grand- 
mother to go over. From there she ran to the 
teacher, and then to the selectman. 

So one after the other came and entered the 
quiet room, until it was full of people, for one 
heard from the other what had happened. 
And in the midst of this confusion and hear- 
ing the many words of lamentation from all 
neighbors, Rico stood at the bed, without say- 
ing a word, never moving, only looking at his 
father. Through the whole week people who 
wanted to look at the dead man, and hear 
from the aunt how things had happened, came 
daily to the house, so that Rico heard the story 
over and over. His father had had work below 
[ 28 ] 


RICO LEARNS THE NAME OF HIS LAKE 

near St. Gallen where a railroad was being 
built. He had been struck on his head by the 
blasting of a rock, and had a deep wound, and 
since he could no longer work, he had wanted 
to go home, to take care of himself until he was 
better. But the long journey, partly on foot, 
and partly lying in an open wagon, had been 
too much for him. He arrived home Sunday 
toward evening, and lay down on his bed, 
never to rise again. He had passed away, 
without anyone seeing him, for Rico had found 
him already dead. 

The Sunday after, the man was buried. 
Rico was the only mourner who followed the 
coffin; a few kind neighbors had joined him; so 
the procession went to Sils. Rico heard how 
the minister in the church read aloud: “The 
departed man’s name was Henrico Trevillo 
and he was born at Peschiera on the Garda 
Lake.” 

It seemed to Rico that he heard something 
that he had known before, but he had not been 
able to put it together. He had always seen 
the lake before him, when he had sung with his 
father: 

“Una sera 
In Peschiera.” 

[ 29 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 
But he had not known why. He had to repeat 
softly the names, and a number of old songs 
appeared with them in his mind. 

When he wandered home, quite alone, he 
saw the grandmother out on the woodblock 
and Stineli beside her. She beckoned to him. 
When he came she stuck a piece of pear-cake 
into his pocket, as she had done to Stineli a 
little while before, and said that they both 
should take a walk, for Rico must not be alone 
on this day. Then the children walked out 
into the bright evening. The grandmother 
remained sitting on her wood stump and looked 
compassionately after the small dark boy until 
they disappeared oiit of sight. Then she said 
softly to herself : 

“No, what He does and lets be done 
For thy own good is meant.*’ 


[ 30 ] 


CHAPTER VI 

Grandmother Tells about Rico^s Mother 

N the road from Sils the teacher came 
walking up, leaning heavily on his 
staff. He had attended the funeral. 
He coughed and gasped, and when he 
arrived where the grandmother was 
sitting and had wished her a good evening, 
he added: “If you allow it, neighbor, I will 
take a seat beside you for a little while, for 
I have some trouble with my throat and my 
chest; but what can the likes of us say with 
soon seventy years behind us, if one buries, as 
today, such a young man. He was not thirty- 
five years old.” 

He had sat down beside the grandmother. 
“I, too, have to think of that,” said the latter, 
“that I, a woman of seventy-five, remain, and 
here and there a young one has to go, of whom 
one should think that he was needed.” 

“No doubt old people are left for some good, 
where would otherwise be the example for the 
young?” remarked the teacher. “But, neigh- 
bor, what do you think will become of the little 
fellow across the way?” 

[ 31 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

“Yes, what will become of him?” the grand- 
mother repeated. “I, too, ask that, and if I 
had to look to mankind, then I should not 
know how to answer. But there is still a 
Father in heaven, who sees the forsaken chil- 
dren. He will, I am sure, find a way for the 
little boy.” 

“Tell me, neighbor, how did it happen, that 
the Italian married the daughter of your 
neighbor across the way? One could never 
find out anything about this man.” 

“It went just as it usually goes, good neigh- 
bor,” said the grandmother. “You remember 
that my old friend, Mrs. Anne-Dete, had lost 
all her children and her husband also, and lived 
alone across the way in the cottage, with 
Marie-Seppli, who was a merry child. It may 
be eleven or twelve years by now, when Tre- 
villo came here for the first time. He had 
work on the foot of the Maloja, and came down 
here with the young fellows. Marie-Seppli 
and he had hardly seen each other, when they 
agreed that they would marry. And one has 
to say that of Trevillo, he was not only a very 
handsome fellow, whom everyone liked, but 
also a respectable and upright man. Anne- 
Dete herself took delight in him. To be sure 
she would have liked to have had the young 
[ 32 ] 


GRANDMOTHER TELLS ABOUT RICO 

couple remain with her in her cottage, and 
Trevillo would gladly have done so; he got on 
well with his mother-in-law, and as for his 
wife, he did whatever she wanted. But he had 
taken her often for a walk up the Maloja and 
had looked down the road, which one can see 
from there, which leads into the valley, and he 
had told her how things were down below, 
where he had been at home. Then Marie- 
Seppli had taken it into her head, that she 
wanted to go down, and nothing could be done, 
however much her mother begged and grieved, 
not to go down below to live. But Trevillo 
said that she must have no anxiety bn that 
account, that he had a small farm and a little 
house down below, he had wanted to go out a 
little into the world, that was how he had come 
to Sils-Maria. — Now Marie-Seppli had won, 
and after the wedding she wanted to go at once 
down the mountain. She wrote to her mother 
that she was very happy and that Trevillo was 
the best of husbands. 

“ But after five or six years, Trevillo one day 
stepped into the room of my neighbor Anne- 
Dete, and led a little boy by the hand and said : 
‘ Here, mother, this is the only thing that is left 
me of Marie-Seppli; she lies buried below with 
her other little children. He was her first and 
[ 33 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

dearest.’ She has told me that. Then he had 
sat down on the bench, where he had seen 
Marie-Seppli for the first time, and had said, 
here he would stay with his little boy, if it 
suited his mother; for he had not been able to 
bear it any longer down below. 

“Joy and sorrow came together for Anne- 
Dete. Little Rico was about four years old 
and was a quiet, thoughtful child, without noise 
and fault, and he was her last joy. A year 
after, she died, and advised Trevillo to take the 
cousin of Anne-Dete into his house for the 
household and the child.” 

“So, so,” observed the teacher when the 
grandmother was silent, “I did not know any- 
thing of all that. Well, it is possible that rela- 
tions on Trevillo’s side may turn up as time 
passes, and they can be urged to do something.” 

“Relations,” sighed the grandmother, “the 
aunt is a relation, but he receives few good 
words from her in a whole year!” 

The teacher rose laboriously. “It goes 
down hill with me, neighbor,” he said, shaking 
his head, “I do not know what has played 
havoc with my strength.” 

Grandmother cheered him up, saying he was 
a young man in comparison with her. But she 
had to wonder about how slowly he walked. 

[ 34 ] 


CHAPTER VII 
A Precious Inheritance 


OW there came many beautiful summer 
days and whenever the grandmother 
could do it, she arranged that Stineli 
got a free moment; but always more 
work had to be done in the house. 
Rico stood many an hour on his doorstep and 
wondered and looked across at the door, to 
see whether Stineli was coming. 

Toward the end of September, when the peo- 
ple were sitting out doors, to enjoy the last 
warm evenings, the teacher too sat now and 
then outside his door; but he looked so thin, 
and coughed more and more, and one morning, 
when he wanted to get up he had no strength, 
and fell back in his pillows. There he lay very 
still and began to think about all kinds of 
things, what would happen if he had to die. 
He had no children and his wife had been dead 
long since, only an old servant was with him in 
his house. He had principally to think of what 
was to become of all the things that belonged 
to him, if he were no longer there, and since his 
[ 35 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

violin was hanging on the wall just opposite 
him, he said to himself: “I should have to 
leave that, too.” 

And then he thought of the day, when Rico 
had stood there and had played on the violin, 
and he would rather that the little boy should 
have it, than a distant cousin, who did not 
know anything about playing a violin. So he 
thought he might let Rico have it cheap, for, 
no doubt, the father must have left something 
to his little boy. But then he remembered 
that, if he had to leave his violin, he could no 
longer use the money. But he could not give 
an instrument away for which he had paid 
six hard florins. So he thought, keener and 
always keener, how he need not give the 
violin, for nothing; but at the end of all think- 
ing it came always clearly before his eyes that 
there, where he could not take his violin, noth- 
ing else could be taken, and all had to stay 
where it was. 

Toward evening, fever gained the upperhand 
more and more and he lay during the whole 
night in a struggle with many thoughts, and 
old things, which he had long since forgotten, 
appeared to him, and pursued him; so that in 
the morning he lay there completely exhausted 
and had only one thought: he should like to do 
[ 36 ] 


A PRECIOUS INHERITANCE 

something kind, and perform some good deed 
right away. 

He knocked with his cane on the wall until 
the old servant came, and he sent her up to the 
grandmother, that she might come to him, but 
asked that she come very soon. 

The grandmother entered his room soon 
afterward, and before she could ask how it was 
with him, he said : “ Be so good as to take down 
the violin and bring it to the little orphan; I 
will give it to him; tell him to look after it 
well.” 

The grandmother had to wonder much, and 
had to exclaim: “What will Rico do! WTiat 
will Rico say!” Then she noticed that the 
teacher had become a little restless, as if great 
haste were needed. So she left him and has- 
tened as quickly as she could, with her gift 
under her arm, over the field, for she could 
hardly wait to tell Rico of his good luck. 

Rico stood at the door and at a sign from the 
grandmother he ran to meet her. 

“There, Rico,” she said, and held the violin 
toward him, “the teacher sends you this for a 
present, it is yours.” 

Rico stood as in a dream, but it was true; 
grandmother was really holding the violin out 
to him. 


[ 37 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

“Take it, Rico, it is yours,” she repeated. 

Trembling from joy and excitement, Rico 
now seized his violin, took it in his arm and 
stared at it, as if it would be taken again from 
him if he were to look away. 

“You must take good care of it,” the grand- 
mother completed her mission, but she had to 
laugh a little, for it seemed to her that the 
admonition was unnecessary. “And Rico, do 
not forget the teacher, and never forget what 
he has done for you; he is very sick.” 

The grandmother went now into her house, 
and Rico hastened with his treasure upstairs to 
his room; he was always alone there. 

He sat down and played and played and for- 
got eating and drinking and all about the time. 
Only when it was getting dark, he got up and 
went downstairs. The aunt came out of the 
kitchen and said : “You can eat tomorrow, you 
have behaved in such a way today, that you do 
not deserve anything.” 

Rico felt no hunger, although he had eaten 
nothing since morning. He had not thought 
of eating when he came down, so he went quite 
contentedly across the way into the other 
house, and right into the kitchen. Stineli 
stood by the hearth and was kindling the fire. 
When she caught sight of Rico, she gave a loud 
[ 38 ] 


A PRECIOUS INHERITANCE 
yodel, for the whole day long, since the grand- 
mother had told her what had happened, the 
ground had been burning under her feet, be- 
cause she could not get out to give vent to her 
joy; but she could not stay still for another 
moment. Now, she was beside herself and 
kept on shouting: “Now you have it! Now 
you have it!” 

At this noise the grandmother came out of 
the living-room, and Rico went at once up to 
her and said: “Grandmother, may I go and 
thank the teacher, if he is ill.f^” 

The grandmother thought for a moment, for 
the teacher had looked very sick in the morn- 
ing; then she said: 

“Wait a moment, Rico, I will go with you,” 
and she went to put on a clean apron. Then 
they wandered together toward the school- 
house. The grandmother entered first, then 
Rico came softly after her, having the violin 
under his arm, for it had not left his hand since 
it belonged to him. 

The teacher lay there much exhausted. 
Rico stepped to the bed and looked at his 
violin, and he could say hardly a word, but his 
eyes sparkled so, that the teacher must have 
understood him, for he cast a glad look at the 
boy and nodded his head. Then he beckoned 
[ 39 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

to the grandmother to come to him. Rico 
stepped aside, and the teacher said with a 
weak voice: “Grandmother, I should very 
much like to have you repeat the Lord’s 
prayer for me. I begin to feel so afraid.” 

At this moment the church bell was heard 
and Rico quickly folded his hands and the 
grandmother folded hers and they repeated the 
Lord’s prayer. Then it was quite still in the 
room. The grandmother bent a little and 
closed the lids of the old teacher, for he had 
started for the better world. Then she took 
Rico’s hand and went out with him. 


[ 40 ] 


CHAPTER VIII 
On the Silser Lake 

TINELI did not get her balance again 
during the whole week, her joy was so 
great, but it also seemed to her that 
this week was ten days longer than 
any other, for Sunday simply would 
not come. 

But when it came, the golden sun shining 
over the autumnal heights, as she arrived with 
Rico under the fir-trees, then such delight took 
possession of Stineli that she had to jump 
around about the moss patches, shouting with 
joy, and then she sat down on the very edge of 
the incline, so that she could see all : the sunny 
heights and the lake and far beyond the blue 
sky. 

Now she called: “Come, Rico, come here, 
we will sing, long, long!” 

Then Rico sat down beside Stineli and tuned 
his violin, for of course it had been brought 
along. Now he began and the children sang: 

“You lambkins come down 
From sun-covered height — ” 

[ 41 ] 



THE STORY OF RICO 
They sang all the verses, but Stineli had not 
enough by far. “We will keep on singing,” 
she said and sang on : 

“You lambkins go over 
To the joy-giving height. 

The sun stands above it 
The wind blows with might.” 

And now Rico sang the verse with Stineli 
and was glad and said: “Sing on, Stineli!” 

Stineli became quite enthusiastic from joy 
and looked up and down, and sang again : 

“And the lambkins, and the lambkins. 
And the heaven, so blue. 

And the red and white flowers 
On green meadows’ bright hue.” 

And Rico played and sang along and said : 

“Sing still more!” 

“And a boy is so dreary 
And a maiden so gay. 

And one lake like the other 
Their water display.” 

And Rico laughed too and sang and said : 

“Sing still more!” 

Then Stineli sang once more and sang one 
verse after the other: 

[ 42 ] 


ON THE SILSER LAKE 

“And the lambkins, and the lambkins 
They sorrow defy. 

They jump about happy 
And do not know why. 

“ And a boy and a maiden 
They sit by the lake 
And were he not fretting 
His heart would not ache.” 

And now they began again at the beginning 
and sang their song from beginning to end and 
were greatly delighted with it, and when they 
had finished with it, they began afresh and 
again and again, and so they sang the song 
about ten times, all the verses, and the more 
they sang it, the better they liked it. 

Rico then played a few melodies which he 
knew from his father, but after a while they 
came back to their song and began to sing it 
anew. 

But sometimes Stineli stopped and cried 
out: “Now something comes in my thought, 
how you can go down to the lake, and need no 
money.” 

Rico stopped suddenly and looked at Stineli. 

“You see,” she continued excitedly, “now 
you have a violin and know a song. You must 
go in every inn or tavern to the room-door and 
[ 43 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

sing the song and play the violin; and then the 
people will give you something to eat, for they 
will see that you are no beggar. So you can 
go as far as the lake, and on the homeward way 
you can do the same thing.” 

Rico became quite thoughtful, but Stineli 
did not leave him time to be astonished, she 
wanted to sing their song again. 

Because of all the singing, they did not hear 
the prayer-bell, and only when it began to 
grow dark did they think that it was time to 
go home, and from the distance they saw 
the grandmother watching anxiously for their 
return. 

But this time Stineli was too excited to have 
room for care or to be subdued by it. She ran 
to the grandmother and cried: “You cannot 
believe, grandmother, how well Rico can fiddle, 
and now we have a song of our own, only for us. 
We will sing it to you directly.” 

And before the grandmother could say a 
word, they were singing with clear voices their 
song, from beginning to the end accompanied 
by the violin. And the grandmother liked to 
listen to the fresh young voices. She had sat 
down on the stump and when the children had 
ended, she said: “Come, Rico, now you must 
play a song for me, and we will sing it together. 

[ 44 ] 



The grandmother liked to listen to the fresh young voices. 





ON THE SILSER LAKE 

Do you know the song, ‘I sing to Thee with 
heart and mouth?”’ 

Rico might have heard it, but he could not 
remember it and suggested the grandmother 
should sing it first, then he would softly play it 
after her, and then he would know it. 

“Now I am to be a solo-singer with my 
trembling voice,” said the grandmother, but 
she sang quite contentedly one verse to the 
end, and if the voice trembled a little it was 
quite true, and Rico could easily follow the 
melody, besides he had heard it before. 

Now they began, and before each stanza the 
grandmother spoke the words to the children; 
and so they sang all together: 

“I sing to Thee with heart and mouth 
Oh Thou, my soul’s desire, 

I sing and make Thy name be known 
On earth, and never tire. 

“I know Thou art the fount of grace. 

The source of life Thou art. 

From which, for each, will ever flow 
All strength to th’ human heart. 

“Why fret’st thou then in thy poor mind 
And sorrow’st day and night? 

Cast down thy grief before thy God, 

Who made thee in His might. 

[ 45 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

“ He never yet has made mistakes 
In His great government. 

No, what He does, and lets be done. 

For thy own good is meant. 

“Then let Him rule, and further do 
Whatever He may desire. 

Then thou will’st rest in peace on earth. 
And joy thy soul acquire.” 

“So,” said the grandmother contentedly, 
“that was a real evening blessing. Now, chil- 
dren, you can go to rest, and may God be with 
you.” 


[ 46 ] 


CHAPTER IX 
Mysterious Happenings 

HEN Rico came into the cottage, later 
than usual, for about a half hour had 
passed during the singing with the 
grandmother, the aunt came rushing 
toward him. 

“Are you beginning already.^’" she shouted. 
“The food stood for an hour on the table, now 
it is put away. Go at once to your room, and if 
you turn out a vagabond and tramp, I am not 
to blame for it. I would rather do I know not 
what, than take care of such a boy as you are.” 

Rico had never answered a word, when the 
aimt scolded him, but on that evening he looked 
at her and said: “I can go out of your way, 
aunt.” She pushed the bolt on the house-door 
so that it rang, then she rushed into her room 
and banged the door behind her. Rico went 
up to his dark room. 

On the following day, when the whole large 
household, parents, grandmother and all the 
children were sitting at their supper, the aunt 
came rushing across and called into the room, 
[ 47 ] 



THE STORY OF RICO 

asking if they knew anything of Rico, she did 
not know where he could be. 

“He will come all right, when supper is 
ready,” answered the father slowly. 

Now the aunt came quite into the room, for 
she had thought, she could just call the boy, 
for he must be there. She told them that he 
had not come for his breakfast, nor for his din- 
ner, and he also had not slept in his bed, that 
was still as it was yesterday, and she believed 
firmly that he had gone on his loafing trips 
before daybreak, for the bolt had been pushed 
back, when she went to open the door; but she 
had first thought, that perhaps from annoyance 
she had forgotten to bolt the door, for no 
human being could know what she had to put 
up with with that boy. 

“Then something has happened,” said the 
father at once. “He may have fallen in a 
crack on the mountain, that happens some- 
times with such small boys who crawl about in 
all places. You ought to have spoken of it a 
little sooner,” he continued slowly, “one ought 
to look for him, and at night one can see 
nothing.” 

Now the aunt began to make a terrible noise. 
She said, that indeed she had suspected that 
they were going to blame her. So it went 
[ 48 ] 


MYSTERIOUS HAPPENINGS 
always if one had had to bear so much for 
years and had been silent. “No one will be- 
lieve,” she cried — and spoke a great truth — 
“what a tricky, cunning, silent boy he is, and 
how hard he has made my life for the last foiu- 
years ; he will become a vagabond, a tramp and 
dangerous loafer.” 

The grandmother had long since stopped 
eating, had risen from the table and gone over 
to the aunt, who was still making a noise. 

“Stop that, neighbor, stop that,” the grand- 
mother had said, before the woman obeyed. 
“I know Rico too; ever since the boy was 
brought to his grandmother, I have always 
known him. But if I were in your place I 
would not say another word, but should think 
whether the little fellow, who may have met 
with an accident, and who may be already 
above, standing before the dear God, whether 
he has to accuse no one, who in his loneliness 
has added great wrong to him, by giving him 
harsh words.” 

It had come a few times in the aunt’s mind, 
how Rico had looked at her the evening before, 
and how he had said: “I can go out of your 
way.” She had shouted so terribly, to quiet 
these thoughts. She did not dare to look at 
the grandmother and said that she must go. 

[ 49 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

Perhaps Rico had come home, and she would 
have been glad to have seen him. 

From that day on, the aunt said never a 
word against Rico in the grandmother’s pres- 
ence, or to anyone else. She believed, as all 
the rest did, that he was dead, and she was 
glad that no one knew what he had said to her 
the last evening. 

In the morning after the news, Stineli’s 
father went out in the barn, and looked for a 
staff ; he had said that he would call a couple of 
neighbors; one must look for the boy,- perhaps 
toward the Glacier, where the landslides were. 

Stineli had followed him and the father said: 
“That is right, come, help us to seek him, you 
can get into the corners better than I can.” 

Only after a long bean stick had been found, 
she said: “But, father, if Rico had perhaps 
gone along the road, then he cannot have fallen 
into anything?” 

“Of course he can,” answered the father. 
“Such senseless boys get off the road and into 
the landslides, they themselves do not know 
how, and Rico was never attentive.” 

Stineli knew better than anyone else, that 
Rico was that, and from that moment a great 
fear came in her heart and grew with her every 
day, so that for fear she could neither eat nor 
[ 50 ] 


MYSTERIOUS HAPPENINGS 

sleep, and did her work as if she did not know 
what she was doing. 

Rico was not found. No one had seen any- 
thing of him. They sought no longer, and 
soon the people found comfort and said: “It 
was the best thing for the orphan, he was so 
forsaken and had no one.” 


[ 51 ] 


CHAPTER X 
Stineli Tells a Secret 


UT Stineli grew stiller and thinner 
from day to day. The little children 
cried, “Stineli does not want to tell 
us stories and she never laughs now.” 
The mother said to the father: “Don’t 
you see She is no longer the same.” And 
the father said: “That’s because she is grow- 
ing. We must give her a little goat’s milk 
every morning in the goat stable.” 

After three weeks had so passed by, the 
grandmother one evening took Stineli upstairs 
in her room and said: “See, Stineli, I can well 
understand that you cannot forget Rico; but 
you must think that the dear Lord has taken 
him, and if it had to be that, then it was good 
for Rico, we shall see it some day.” 

Then Stineli began to weep louder than her 
grandmother had ever seen the child, and kept 
on calling out loud: “The dear Lord has not 
done it, I have done it, grandmother, and there- 
fore I feel like dying from fear, for I have put 
Rico up to going down to the strange lake, and 
[ 52 ] 


STINELI TELLS A SECRET 
now he has fallen in a landslide and is dead, 
and it has hurt him, too, and I am to blame for 
it all.” And Stineli wept and sobbed as if her 
heart would break. 

A heavy load had fallen from the grand- 
mother’s heart; she had given Rico up for lost, 
and the painful thought had pursued her, that 
the little boy had run away on account of the 
bad treatment he had at home, and was per- 
haps lying in the lake, or had perished in the 
forest. Now, all at once, new hope came to 
her. 

She quieted Stineli so that she could tell 
her the whole story about the lake, of which 
she had not known anything. She now learned 
how Rico had always talked of the lake and 
how he had been drawn there, and how Stineli 
had found the way. She was quite sure that 
Rico had started to go there; but the father’s 
words about the landslide had taken all hope 
from Stineli. 

The grandmother took the child’s hand and 
drew her toward her. “Come, Stineli,” she 
said lovingly, “I must explain something to 
you. You remember what stands in the old 
song which we sang with Rico the last evening: 

“No, what He does and lets be done 
For thy own good is meant.” 

[ 53 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

Do you see, although the dear God has not 
done it Himself as if He had let Rico die in his 
bed, yet the whole thing was in His hand,when 
you did something unwise, for He would have 
been able to be master over such a little 
Stineli. And that you have done something 
really foolish, you will remember your whole 
life long, and what may come of it, when chil- 
dren run out into the world and want to under- 
take things of which they know nothing, and 
never say a word of it to anyone, not to parents 
and not to a grandmother, who mean well with 
them. But now the dear God has let it be 
done, and we may believe for sure, that all will 
turn out for the best.” 

“Now, Stineli, think of that, and never for- 
get what you have learned. But, because you 
are sorry for it, from your heart, you may go 
now and pray to the dear God that He may 
turn to something good, the foolish thing that 
you and Rico have done. Then you may be 
joyous again, Stineli, and I am glad with you, 
for I believe confidently that Rico is living and 
that the dear God will not forsake him.” 

From that day on Stineli became cheerful 
again, and although Rico was lacking her on 
every step she had no fear nor any more 
reproaches in her heart, and from day to day 
[ 54 ] 


STINELI TELLS A SECRET 

she looked across to the road to see whether 
Rico was not coming down from Maloja. 
Time went by but nothing was heard of 
Rico. 


[ 55 ] 


CHAPTER XI 
A Long Journey 

that Sunday evening Rico had gone 
3 his dark room and had sat down on 
chair. He wanted to stay there imtil 
tie aunt had gone to bed. 

After Stineli had made the discovery 
how the journey to the lake could be carried 
out, the whole thing appeared so perfectly 
easy to Rico, that he began to think when it 
would be best for him to start; for he had a 
feeling that the aunt might keep him back, 
although he knew that she would not miss 
him. 

When he now came home, and she went for 
him in such a way, he thought: “Then I’ll go 
at once, as soon as she is in bed.” As he thus 
sat on the chair, he thought how pleasant it 
would be, if he should not hear the aunt scold- 
ing for many a day, and what bunches of red 
flowers he would bring back for Stineli. And 
he saw the sunny shores and violet mountains 
before him, and then he fell asleep. 

But he was not in a comfortable position, for 
[ 56 ] 



A LONG JOURNEY 
he had kept the violin in his hand; so he woke 
again after some time, and it was still dark. 
Now he noticed that he was wearing his Sun- 
day clothes, that was well ; he had his cap still 
on his head from yesterday; so he took the 
violin under his arm, and he went softly down 
the stairs, shoved back the bolt and wandered 
out into the cool morning air. 

It had already begun to dawn and the 
roosters began to crow in Sils. He marched 
hastily along so as to get away from the houses 
onto the highway. Now he was there and 
walked contentedly along for everything was 
familiar to him, he had often walked so far with 
his father. How far it might be, however, un- 
til he came on the Maloja, he did not know, 
and it seemed a great distance to him still, 
after he had walked continuously for two good 
hours. 

Now gradually bright daylight came, and 
when he, after another good hour’s walk, had 
arrived on the place before the inn in Maloja, 
where he had often looked down the road with 
his father, the sunny morning lay over the 
mountains, and the fir-trees were all as of gold. 
Rico sat down on the edge of the street, he was 
already very tired and now he realized that he 
had eaten nothing since his dinner on the pre- 
[ 57 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

ceding day. But he was not dismayed, for 
now the road went down hill, and afterwards 
the lake would surely appear. 

As he thus sat, a large mail-coach came rat- 
tling up. He had often seen it when it drove 
by Sils, and he had thought that a coachman 
must enjoy the greatest happiness on earth, 
sitting always with his whip on the box and 
driving fine horses. Now he saw one of those 
lucky creatures near by, for the mail-coach 
stopped and Rico did not turn his eyes from 
the remarkable man, who came down from his 
high seat, and went into the tavern and came 
out again with several enormous pieces of rye- 
bread, upon which lay a huge slice of cheese. 
Now the coachman pulled a strong knife out of 
his pocket and cut his bread and put a piece in 
the mouth of one horse and then the other. His 
turn came between, but on his piece of bread 
came always a good morsel of cheese. As 
they now were eating all together so content- 
edly, the coachman looked around and all at 
once he called out; “Hello, little musician, 
will you breakfast with us? Come along.’’ 

Only when Rico had seen the bread, did he 
realize how very hungry he was. He therefore 
gladly accepted the invitation and went over 
to the coachman. He cut an astonishingly 
[ 58 ] 


A LONG JOURNEY 

large piece of cheese and laid it upon a still 
thicker piece of bread, so that Rico hardly 
knew how he could master the things. 

He had to place his violin on the ground. 
The coachman watched complacently how 
Rico bit into his breakfast, and while he con- 
tinued his business he said: “You are a very 
young violin player, do you know anything.^ ” 

“Yes, two songs, and then the one from 
father,” Rico answered. 

“So, and where do you want to go — on your 
two little legs?” the coachman continued. 

“To Peschiera on the Garda Lake,” was 
Rico’s serious answer. 

The coachman burst into loud laughter, so 
that Rico looked quite astonished up at him. 

“You are a good walker, you,” laughed the 
coachman again, “ don’t you know how far that 
is, and that a small musician, as you are, could 
run both his feet off together with the soles, 
before he would have seen one little drop of 
water of the Garda Lake? Who sends you 
down there?” 

“I go myself,” said Rico. 

“I have never met anyone like this mite be- 
fore,” the coachman laughed good-naturedly. 
“Where are you at home, musician?” 

“I do not really know, perhaps on the 
[ 59 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

Garda Lake,” Rico answered quite seriously. 

“Is that an answer!” The driver looked 
closer at the boy. Rico did not look like a 
runaway beggar child. The black curly head 
over his Sunday suit looked quite fine, and the 
small face with the serious eyes bore a noble 
imprint, and if one once had seen it one liked 
to look at it again. 

The coachman may have felt that too, for he 
looked at Rico firmly and then again even 
more firmly, then he said kindly: “You carry 
your passport in your face, my boy, and it is a 
good one, although you do not know where you 
are at home. What will you give me if I let 
you sit beside me on the box and take you 
down?” 

Rico was so astonished as if it could not be 
possible that he really had heard these words. 
To drive down into the valley on the high coach 
he could never have thought it possible. But 
what could he give the man? 

“ I have nothing besides my violin, and I can- 
not give that to you,” Rico said sadly after 
some thinking. 

“Yes indeed, I should not know what to do 
with that thing,” the coachman laughed. 
“ Come, now we start — and you can give me a 
little music.” 


[ 60 ] 


A LONG JOURNEY 

Rico did not trust his ears; but really the 
coachman lifted him over the wheels onto the 
high seat and climbed after! The travellers 
had taken to the coach again, the door was 
closed and now it went down the street, which 
Rico had so often looked at, and had longed to 
get down there. And his wish was fulfilled, 
and how ! High up between heaven and earth 
Rico drove along and he could not yet believe 
that it was he. 

The driver did wonder a little to whom the 
little boy beside him could belong. 

“Tell me, you little walking possession, 
where is your father.^” he asked after a strong 
crack with his whip. 

“He is dead,” answered Rico. 

“So, and where is your mother.'*” 

“She is dead.” 

“So, then one has perhaps a grandfather and 
a grandmother, where are they.?*” 

“They are dead.” 

“ So, so, but perhaps a brother or a sister you 
surely must have, what has become of them.?*” 

“They are dead,” was Rico’s continuous, 
sad answer. 

Since now the driver saw that all were dead 
he let the relations alone and only asked: 
“What was your father’s name.?*” 

[ 61 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

“Henrico Trevillo of Peschiera on Lake 
Garda,” replied Rico. 

Now the man proceeded to arrange the 
things in his mind: this is a misplaced boy 
from down below, and it is well that he comes 
again to his own place. With this he dropped 
the subject. 

When now, after the first steep descent of 
the mountain road, the way became a little 
more even, the driver said: “Well, musician, 
now play a cheerful song.” 

Then Rico took his violin and was of such 
good cheer high up there on his throne, riding 
along under the blue sky, that he began and 
sang lustily, 

“You lambkins come down 
From sun-covered height.” 

High on the postchaise sat three students, 
who were taking a holiday trip, and as now the 
song went on and Rico sang with much delight 
and joyousness, Stineli’s stanzas, there sud- 
denly arose above on the coach a loud Hello 
and laughter, and the students called out: 
“Stop, musician, and begin again, we will sing 
with you.” 

Then Rico began again and now the students 
joined and sang with all their might, 

[ 62 ] 


A LONG JOURNEY 

“And the lambkins, and the lambkins — ” 
and between the singing they laughed so loud 
that Rico’s violin could not be heard, and then 
they sang again, and one sang quite alone into 
the singing of the others: 

“And were he not fretting. 

His heart would not ache.” 

And then the others fell in again and sang as 
loud as they could 

“And the lambkins and the lambkins” 
and so it went on for some time, and when Rico 
stopped for a moment, then they called to him : 
“Play on, do not stop,” and they threw small 
silver coins to him, again and again, so that he 
had a little heap in his cap. 

Within the coach the travellers opened all 
the windows and stuck out their heads to hear 
the jolly song. Rico began to play anew and 
the students began afresh and divided the song 
into Solo and Chorus. Then the solo voice 
sang very solemnly: 

“And one lake, like the other. 

Their water display” 
and then again: 

“And were he not fretting. 

His heart would not ache ” 

[ 63 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

and then the chorus fell in and sang with all 
their might, 

“And the lambkins, and the lambkins” 

and then it seemed they laughed as if they 
wanted to shorten their lives. 

Suddenly the coachman stopped, it was 
noon and a halt had to be made and dinner had 
to be taken. WTien he swung Rico down, he 
carefully held his cap, for all the money was in 
it, and Rico had enough to do to take care of 
his violin. 

The driver was quite happy when he gave 
the cap into Rico’s hand, and said: “So, that 
is right and now you, too, can have dinner.” 

The students jumped down, one after the 
other, and they all wanted to see the player, for 
they had not been able to see him well from 
their seats. Now the wondering and the mer- 
riment began afresh; judging from the good 
voice, they had expected to see a bigger man, 
and now the fun was doubled. They took the 
little boy in their midst and marched singing 
into the inn. Rico had to take a seat between 
two of the gentlemen, at the beautifully set 
table, and they said that he was their guest, 
and each of the three put a piece of meat 
on his plate, for none wanted to give less 
[ 64 ] 


A LONG JOURNEY 

than the other, and Rico had never eaten such 
a meal. 

“From whom do you have the beautiful 
song, little player.?” one of the three asked. 

“From Stineli, she has made it herself,” 
Rico answered seriously. 

The three looked at each other and then 
burst out in ringing laughter. 

“That is fine of Stineli,” one cried, “now we 
will give a Hurrah for Stineli.” 

They drank Stineli’s health, and Rico had to 
clink his glass with theirs for Stineli, which he 
gladly did. 

Now it was time to start, and when they 
stepped up to the coach again, a stout man 
came to Rico; he had such a big stick in his 
hand that it looked as if he had torn up a 
young tree. He was dressed in a yellowish- 
grey suit. 

“Come, little one,” he said, “you have sung 
so prettily. I have heard you inside the coach, 
and I, too, have to do with sheep, like you; you 
see, I am a sheep trader and because you can 
sing so beautifully of sheep, you must have 
something from me.” With these words he 
put a large silver coin in Rico’s hand, for the 
cap had been emptied into Rico’s pocket. 

Then the man took his seat inside the coach, 
[ 65 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

and Rico was lifted up by the coachman like a 
feather and swung onto his high seat. When 
the coach did not go so quickly, the students 
asked for music, and Rico played all the 
melodies which he had from his father, and at 
last he played: 

“I sing to Thee with heart and mouth.” 

The students must have fallen asleep at this 
melody, for everything had become so quiet, 
and now the violin was silent, and the evening 
breeze wafted softly around them, and silently 
the little stars came up in the sky, one after the 
other, until they radiated round about, wher- 
ever Rico was looking. And he thought of 
Stineli and the grandmother, what they were 
doing now, and he remembered that about this 
time the prayer-bell was ringing, and both 
would pray the Lord’s prayer. He would do 
that, too; it was then as if he were with them, 
and Rico folded his hands and prayed under 
the brilliant, star-studded heavens, very rever- 
ently, his Lord’s prayer. 


[ 66 ] 


CHAPTER XII 


A Stranger Helps the Little Wanderer 

ICO too had fallen asleep. He awoke 
" from being taken hold of by the coach- 
man to lift him down. Now all came 
out and down from the coach, and the 
three students came to Rico and shook 
his hand, and wished him a happy journey. 
And one called out: “Greet Stineli from us 
most heartily!” 

Then they disappeared in a street, and Rico 
heard how they once again began: 


“And the lambkins, and the lambkins.” 

Now Rico stood there in the dark night and 
had no idea where he was nor what he should 
do. Now he remembered that he had not 
even thanked the driver, who had taken him 
along so far, and he wanted to do so at once. 

The driver had disappeared together with 
the horses, and it was dark round about; only 
at the other side hung a lantern; Rico went 
toward it. It hung on the stable door, where 
the horses were being led in. Aside stood the 
man with the big stick, he seemed to wait 
[ 67 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 
for the coachman. Rico too stood there and 
waited. 

The sheep trader could not have recognized 
him in the darkness; all at once he said in a 
surprised tone: “What, you are still here, 
little one? Where are you going to spend the 
night?” 

“I do not know where,” answered Rico. 

“For goodness* sake! At eleven o’clock in 
the night and such a bit of a boy as you are, 
and in a strange country — ” 

The sheep trader had to puff out his words, 
for in the excitement he could not get his 
breath easily; but he did not complete his 
sentence, for the coachman came out of the 
stables, and Rico went directly toward him and 
said: “I wanted to thank you for taking me 
along.” 

“It is well that you came, I had almost for- 
gotten you over the horses, and I wanted to 
give you in charge of an acquaintance. I was 
about to ask you, good friend,” he continued, 
turning to the sheep trader, “whether you 
would not take the little fellow along, since you 
are going down into the Bergamask region. 
He is going down to Lake Garda, somewhere, 
he is one of those who are — hither and thither — 
you imderstand what I mean — ” 

[ 68 ] 


A STRANGER HELPS THE WANDERER 

All kinds of stories of stolen and lost chil- 
dren came into the sheep trader’s mind: he 
looked compassionately at Rico, by the light of 
the lantern, and said in a low tone to the coach- 
man: “He looks as though he were not in the 
right casing. No doubt he belongs in a 
gentleman’s cloak. I’ll take him along.” 

After he had talked over a sheep-deal with 
the driver, the two took leave from each other 
and the trader beckoned to Rico to come with 
him. After a short walk the man went into a 
house and directly into a large room of an inn, 
where he sat down in a corner with Rico. 

“Now we will look at your money,” he said, 
“so that we may know what you can afford. 
Where are you going down below at the 
lake.?” 

“To Peschiera on the Garda Lake,” was 
Rico’s unchanged reply. Now he took all his 
money out of his pocket; it was a nice little 
heap of small coins, and on the top was the 
large silver piece. 

“Have you only the one large piece?” the 
trader asked. 

“Yes, only the one, you gave that to me.” 
The man was so delighted that he had been 
the only one who had given a large piece and 
that the boy knew it, he felt inclined to give 
[ 69 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

him another piece. When food was served the 
stout man beckoned to the boy to come to the 
table, saying: “I pay that and also your bed 
for the night; then you will have enough for 
tomorrow.” 

Rico was so tired from all the singing and 
playing and travelling the whole day long, that 
he could hardly eat, and he had scarcely touched 
his pillow, in the large room where he was to 
spend the night with his protector, when he fell 
at once into a deep sleep. 

The next morning Rico was shaken very 
early out of his deep sleep, by a firm hand. 
He jumped hastily out of bed for his compan- 
ion stood there ready for the journey, with his 
stick in his hand. 

But it was not long before Rico, too, was 
ready, with his violin in his hand. The two 
stepped first into the dining-room and Rico’s 
companion called for coffee, and he encouraged 
the boy to drink of it for now a long journey 
was coming and one that would give an 
appetite. 

When that piece of business was satisfacto- 
rily accomplished, the two travellers started 
and after a walk they turned round a corner 
and — ^how Rico had to open his eyes — ^all at 
once he saw a large, shining lake before them. 

[ 70 ] 


A STRANGER HELPS THE WANDERER 

“Now comes the Garda Lake!” Rico said 
excitedly. 

“Not by far, little fellow; now we are on the 
Lake of Como,” the trader explained. Then 
they went in a ship and sailed for many hours. 
And Rico looked now along the sunny shore, 
and then into the blue waves, and all spoke of 
home to him. All at once he placed his silver 
piece on the table. 

“What.^ what.^ have you already too much 
money .5^” his protector asked him, who, lean- 
ing on his stick watched with surprise Rico’s 
doings. 

“ I have to pay today, you said so last night,” 
said Rico. 

“You do pay attention, if one tells you some- 
thing. That is good, but one does not put the 
money so on the table, just give it to me.” 

With these words he rose and went to look 
round to see to whom he should pay. But 
when he pulled out his well-filled leather bag, 
which was filled with such silver pieces, for he 
was on a trading journey, then he could not 
find it in his heart to give the little fellow’s 
single large piece, and he brought it back again 
together with his ticket and said: “There, 
you can use your money better tomorrow; to- 
day you are still with me, and who knows how 
[ 71 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 
things will go with you tomorrow. If now you 
arrive down at Peschiera at the Garda Lake, 
and I am no longer with you, shall you remem- 
ber the house where you have to go?” 

“No, I know no house there,” answered 
Rico. The man had to overcome a secret sur- 
prise, for the little fellow’s story seemed very 
mysterious to him. But he did not let Rico 
see it, and did not ask any more; he thought 
that he should not get to understand the boy’s 
doings; the coachman would explain it to him 
when they met again; he would, no doubt, 
know everything about the boy. He felt very 
sorry for Rico who now, very soon, had to lose 
him too. 

When the boat stopped, the man took Rico’s 
hand and said: “So that is better, I shall not 
lose you thus, and you can keep up better, for 
now it means to walk quickly, for they will not 
wait.” 

Rico had to try hard to keep up with his pro- 
tector. He neither looked to the right nor the 
left, and all at once he stood before a long row 
of rolling wagons, the like of which he had 
never seen. He followed his companion up a 
few steps into one of the wagons, and Rico was 
now for the first time in his life, in a railroad 
carriage. After they had ridden for about an 
[ 72 ] 


A STRANGER HELPS THE WANDERER 

hour, the sheep-trader rose and said: “Now 
my turn comes, we are now in Bergamo, and 
you remain seated, until someone comes to 
fetch you, for I have arranged everything, — 
then you get out and are there.” 

“Am I then in Peschiera on the Garda 
Lake.^” Rico asked. His protector con- 
firmed that. Rico now thanked the kind 
man very prettily, for he had indeed com- 
prehended, how many kindnesses the man 
had shown him, and so they parted, and each 
felt sorry that he had to leave the other. 

Rico now sat very quiet in his corner, and 
had time to be astounded, for no one troubled 
himself about him. He might have sat so per- 
haps three hours without moving, when the 
train again stopped as it had done several 
times before. 

A conductor came in, took hold of Rico’s 
arm and pulled him hastily out of the carriage 
and down the steps. Then he pointed up the 
hill and said: “Peschiera,” and was in a mo- 
ment back in the carriage and had disappeared. 
The train rushed on. 


[ 73 ] 


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PART II 


At the Beautiful Garda Lake 






CHAPTER XIII 
At the Distant, Beautiful Lake 

CO stepped a few feet away from the 
building where the train had stopped, 
and looked about: this white house, 
the bare, open space before it, the 
straight road, all appeared so strange 
to him; he had never seen that before, and 
he thought: “I am not on the right spot.” 
Sadly he went on down the path, between the 
trees. The road now turned, and Rico stood 
as in a dream and did not stir. Before him in 
bright sunshine lay the light blue lake with 
the warm, still shores and beyond the moun- 
tains came toward each other; in the midst lay 
the sunny bay and the friendly houses on it 
shone across. Rico knew that he had seen 
that, there he had stood, just there, he knew 
these trees; but where was the small, white 
house? It must be there, quite near; but it 
was not there. 

But below there was the old street; oh yes, 
he knew it so well, and there the large red 
flowers shone forth from between the green 
[ 77 ] 



THE STORY OF RICO 

leaves; there must be a narrow, stone bridge, 
there over the outlet of the lake, he had walked 
over it so often; but he could not see it. 

Suddenly Rico began to run up to the street, 
driven by ardent longing, and across it, there 
was the narrow bridge — he knew all — there he 
had gone across and somebody was holding his 
hand — ^his mother — ^all at once the face of his 
mother came before him, as he had not seen it 
before for many years; there she had stood and 
had looked at him with loving eyes ; and some- 
thing came over Rico as never before in his life. 

He threw himself on the ground beside the 
narrow bridge and wept and sobbed aloud: 
“Mother, my mother, where are you.^ Where 
is my home, mother? ” He lay there for a long 
time and had to weep out his great sorrow, and 
he felt as if his heart must burst, and as if it 
were an outbreak of all sorrow which had made 
him dumb and stiff when it had come to him. 

When Rico got up from the ground, the sun 
was far down and a golden evening glow cov- 
ered the lake. Now the mountains became 
violet and a rosy hue lay over the shore. Rico 
had thus remembered his lake and had seen it 
thus in his dreams, and everything was much 
more beautiful now he saw it again with his 
very eyes. Rico kept on thinking, as he was 
[ 78 ] 


AT THE DISTANT BEAUTIFUL LAKE 

sitting there and looked and could not see 
enough: “If I could only show that all to 
Stineli!” 

Now the sun had gone down, and the light 
round about turned into darkness. Rico arose 
and went toward the street, where he had seen 
the red flowers. A small path led up to them 
from the street. There they were, one bush 
beside the other, but it was like a garden; to be 
sure there was only an open fence round about 
the place, and in the garden there were flowers 
and trees and grapes, in profusion. 

Above at the end was a handsome house, 
with an open door, and in the garden a young 
fellow went hither and thither and cut off 
bunches of large golden-yellow grapes here and 
there and whistled contentedly at his work. 

Rico looked at the flowers and thought: “If 
Stineli could see these!” And he stood for a 
long time without moving before the hedge. 

Now the young gardener saw him and called 
out to him: “Come in, fiddler, and play a 
pretty song, if you know one.” 

The boy called that in Italian, and Rico felt 
so strange; he understood what he heard, but 
he could not speak it. He stepped into the 
garden and the young fellow wanted to talk 
with him; but when he discovered that Rico 
[ 79 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

could not answer, he pointed to the open door 
and made clear to Rico that he should play 
there. 

Rico approached the door, it led directly in- 
to a room. There stood a little bed, and beside 
it sat a lady who was making something with 
red laces. Rico stopped before the threshold 
and began to play his song and sing : 

“You lambkins come down.” 

When he was through, there arose from the 
bed the pale head of a boy, who called out: 

“Play again!” 

Rico played another melody. 

“Play once more!” it sounded again. 

So it went on five or six times, and again and 
again it came from the bed: “Play again!” 

Now Rico had played all he knew; he took 
his violin and was going away. Then the sick 
boy began to scream: “Stay here! Play 
again, play once more!” And the lady had 
risen and came to Rico. She gave him some- 
thing in his hand and Rico at first did not know 
what she wanted; but it came again into his 
mind, that Stineli had said, if he were playing 
before a door, the people would give him some- 
thing. Then the woman asked in a friendly 
tone, from where he came and where he was go- 
[ 80 ] 


AT THE DISTANT BEAUTIFUL LAKE 

ing? Rico could not answer. She asked if he 
were there with his parents Then he nodded 
“no”; whether he was alone? He nodded 
“yes Where he was now going, so late in the 
evening? Rico shook his head uncertainly. 
Then the woman felt compassion for the small 
stranger, and she called the young fellow from 
the garden, and told him to go with the strange 
boy to the Inn “At the Golden Sun”; perhaps 
the landlord could understand the boy’s lan- 
guage, for he had been travelling for a long 
time about the world. He was to tell the land- 
lord that he should keep the boy over night, 
she would pay for it, and he was to send him 
tomorrow on the right way which he had to 
take, he was so very young — “only a few 
years older than my boy,” she added full of 
pity — and he also should give him something 
to eat. 

The little one shouted again from his bed: 
“He must play once more,” and did not stop 
until his mother said: “He will come again to- 
morrow, but now he must sleep and so must 
you.” 

The young fellow now went ahead of Rico, 
and the latter knew now where he was going, 
he had understood the lady’s words. 

It was a good ten minutes’ walk to the little 
[81 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 
town. In the middle of a narrow street the 
young man went into a house and directly into 
a large bar-room which was thick with tobacco- 
smoke, and a number of men sat around the 
tables. 

The young fellow gave his message and the 
landlord said, “It is well,” and the innkeeper’s 
wife came at once and both looked at Rico 
from top to toe. But when the guests at the 
next table saw the violin several of them called 
out: “We are going to have music,” and one 
called: “Little one, play something merry!” 
And they all shouted so in confusion, that the 
landlord could hardly ask what language Rico 
spoke, and from where he came. Rico now 
answered in his own tongue, that he had come 
from over the Maloja, and that he understood 
all that they were saying, but could not speak. 
The landlord understood him and said that he 
too had been there above, and they would talk 
together later, now he should play a little, for 
the guests kept on calling for music. 

Then Rico obediently began to play as 
usual with his song, and sang the words. 
But not one of the guests understood a word, 
and the melody seemed, no doubt, a little 
simple to them. Some began to talk and to 
make a noise; the others called out, they 
[ 82 ] 


AT THE DISTANT BEAUTIFUL LAKE 


wanted to hear something different, a dance or 
something pretty. 

But Rico sang his song through to the end, 
when he once had begun it. As he had finished 
it, he thought of what he should play next. He 
did not know how to play a dance, and grand- 
mother’s song went still slower, and they 
could again not understand the words; then 
something occurred to him and he began: 

“Una sera 
In Peschiera — ” 

The first tones of the melody had hardly 
been played, when there was perfect silence, 
and all at once voices rose from this and that 
table and at last from all tables, and there rose 
a chorus more beautiful than Rico had ever 
heard, so that he became quite enthusiastic and 
played ever more fierily, and the men sang more 
and more eagerly, when one stanza was at an 
end, then Rico began at once a new one with 
firm strokes, for he knew, from his father, where 
the stanza ended. And when now the end 
came, there arose such a noise as Rico had 
never heard. Everyone in the room called 
and shouted in confusion, and struck their fists 
on the table, from pure joy, and then they all 
came with their glasses toward Rico and he 
[ 83 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

was to drink from each, and two shook his 
hands and one his shoulders, and one and all 
shouted at him and made such an uproar from 
pure joy that the poor little boy became fright- 
ened and grew paler and paler. He had played 
their own Peschiera-song, which belonged to 
them alone and which no stranger could learn, 
and he, this little boy, had played it firmly and 
correctly, as if he belonged to Peschiera; these 
intense-feeling Peschierans could not empha- 
size enough and could not rejoice enough over 
this wonder of a violin-player and all wanted to 
show him how highly they esteemed him. 

But now, the innkeeper’s wife interfered. 
She had a plateful of rice with a large piece of 
chicken on it in her hand; she beckoned to Rico 
and told the men to leave him alone now, that 
he must eat and they could see that he was as 
white as a sheet from excitement. Then she 
put his plate on a small table in the corner and 
sat down with him and encouraged him to eat, 
for that would be good for such a thin little 
fellow as he was. 

Rico found his supper very good, for since his 
coffee in the morning he had not had a bite, 
and he had been through too much to go with- 
out eating. As soon as his plate was empty, 
his eyes closed from fatigue. The landlord too 
[ 84 ] 


AT THE DISTANT BEAUTIFUL LAKE 

had come to the table and praised Rico for his 
playing, and asked him, to whom he belonged 
and where he was going. Rico said, while he 
tried hard to keep his eyes open, that he be- 
longed to no one, and he wanted to go nowhere. 

Then the landlord said in a friendly way, he 
should go to sleep without fear, tomorrow he 
could go to see Mrs. Menotti again, who had 
sent him there; that she was a very kind lady 
and could perhaps employ him as a young ser- 
vant, if he did not know what to do. 

But his wife kept on pulling his sleeve, as if 
he should not say what he was saying; but he 
finished, for he did not understand what his 
wife wanted. 

Now the men at the tables began again, they 
wanted to hear their song once more. But the 
landlady called out: “No, no, you can hear it 
again next Sunday. The boy is tired to 
death.” With these words she took Rico by 
the hand and brought him upstairs to a large 
room. Horse-harness hung on the wall and in 
one corner grain lay in heaps, and in the other 
stood his bed. In a few minutes Rico lay in it 
and was fast asleep. 

Later, when all was still in the house, the 
landlord sat at the small table where Rico had 
sat, and his wife stood before him, for she was 
[ 85 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 
still clearing away, and she said eagerly, “You 
must not send the boy to Mrs. Menotti; that is 
a boy I can use for all kinds of work, and have 
you not noticed how he can play.^ They all 
became wild over it. You take my word for it 
that he will be a player, better than our three, 
and he will learn to play dances, I tell you, 
then you can have him for nothing on the dance- 
days. You must not let the boy out of your 
reach; he looks nice, and I like him.” 

“Just as you like,” said the landlord, and he 
could see that his wife had thought out some- 
thing to their advantage. 


[ 86 ] 


CHAPTER XIV 
Rico Makes New Friends 

HE next morning the landlady stood in 
her doorway and made investigation 
about the weather and what else that 
might have happened over-night. The 
gardener of Mrs. Menotti was coming 
along; he was at the same time master and 
servant on the fruitful estate, for he liked his 
position as he understood garden and field 
work, and ruled and looked after everything. 

When he stood before the landlady he said: 
“Mrs. Menotti wants me to tell you that, if the 
young musician of last night has not gone 
away, he shall come across to Mrs. Menotti, 
for her little boy wants to hear him play again.” 

“Oh, yes, if Mrs. Menotti is in no great 
hurry,” the landlady said, while she put both 
hands on her hips, as a sign that she would not 
hurry. “For the present, the little musician 
still lies upstairs in his good bed and is still 
bravely sleeping and I like him to sleep. You 
may tell Mrs. Menotti, that I will send him 
now and then; that he is not going any farther, 
[ 87 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

but that I have taken him in and have adopted 
him; for he is a forsaken orphan, who did not 
know where to go. And now he is well taken 
care of,’’ she added with emphasis. 

The young fellow went with his message. 

The landlady let Rico finish his sleep, for she 
was a good-natured woman, only she thought 
first of her own profit, and then of that of 
others. When Rico at last awoke he had slept 
away all fatigue and came down the stairs quite 
refreshed. The innkeeper’s wife beckoned 
him into the kitchen and placed a large basin of 
coffee on the table before him, and laid a piece 
of corn-cake beside it. Then she said: 

“You can have it every day, if you like, and 
at noon and evenings, even better, for then food 
is prepared for the guests and there is always 
some left over. You can do errands for me 
and play the violin when it is needed, and you 
can be at home with us and have your own bed- 
room and you need not wander any more 
through the world. And now you can say 
whether you want to stay.” 

Rico answered quite contentedly: “Yes, I 
will stay,” for he could say that much in the 
landlady’s language. 

She went at once over the whole house with 
him and through the barns and the stables and 
[ 88 ] 


RICO MAKES NEW FRIENDS 

into the vegetable garden and the barnyard 
where the chicken coops were, and she ex- 
plained to him the surroundings and directions, 
how to go to the shoemaker and the store 
and to other important people. Rico paid 
close attention, and to try him, the landlady 
sent Rico at once to three or four places to 
fetch all kinds of things such as oil, soap and 
thread and a mended boot, for she had noticed 
that Rico could speak a few words quite 
plainly. 

Rico brought everything quite right, which 
pleased the landlady very much, and toward 
evening she said : “Now you may go with your 
violin to Mrs. Menotti and stay there until it 
gets dark.” 

Rico was glad of that, for he would pass the 
lake and afterwards be near the beautiful 
flowers. 

Arrived at the lake, he ran to the small 
bridge and sat down, for there lay again all the 
beauty before him, the water and mountains 
in the golden vapor, and he could hardly get 
away. 

But he did, because he knew that he now 
must do what the landlady told him to do, be- 
cause he could make his home with her. 
When he entered the garden, the little boy 
[ 89 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

heard him, for the door was always open, and 
he cried out : “ Come and play again ! ” 

Mrs. Menotti came out and shook hands 
with Rico and drew him into the room. It 
was a large room and one could see, through the 
wide door, directly into the beautiful garden. 
The bed of the sick boy stood just opposite the 
door, besides that there were only chairs and 
tables and beautifully carved boxes in the 
room, but no other bed, for in the evening the 
little bed was moved into the next room, where 
the mother’s bed stood; and in the morning, 
the little bed, with the owner of it, was brought 
out again into the beautiful, cheerful room, 
where the sun threw its beaming rays on the 
floor every morning, and rejoiced the heart of 
the little boy. Beside the bed stood a pair of 
crutches, for from time to time the mother 
took the little boy out of his bed and guided 
him in walking on his crutches a few times up 
and down the room, for he could neither walk 
nor stand on his little legs, as he was com- 
pletely paralyzed and had never been able to 
use them. 

When Rico came to the door, the little boy 
raised himself by means of a cord which was 
hanging from the ceiling down to his bed, for he 
could not sit up without help. Rico came to 
[ 90 ] 


RICO MAKES NEW FRIENDS 

the bedside and looked in silence at the little 
fellow. He had very thin arms and small, thin 
fingers, and a narrow, thin face such as Rico 
had never seen in a boy, and out of the face 
two large eyes looked piercingly at Rico, for 
the little boy, who saw something new and who 
thirsted for new things, and very seldom saw 
them, looked at everything that came in his 
lonesome path very keenly. 

“What is your name.?^” the little boy now 
asked. 

“Rico,” was the answer. 

“And I am Silvio. How old are you.^” was 
his next question. 

“I shall soon be eleven years old.” 

“And I, too, shall soon be eleven,” said the 
little boy. 

“But, Silvio, what are you talking about,” 
the mother interrupted, “you are not quite 
four, time does not go quite so quickly.” 

“Play again!” said Silvio. 

The mother sat down in her seat beside the 
little bed and Rico went and stood a little 
further away and began to play. Silvio could 
not get enough of it, and as soon as one piece 
was played then his “play again” was heard. 

Rico had played all his pieces about six 
times, when the mother went out and came 
[ 91 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

back with a plate full of the golden yellow 
grapes and said that Rico must rest now and 
sit on her chair and eat some grapes with 
Silvio. 

Then she went into the garden and looked 
after things and was glad, for she hardly ever 
could get away from Silvio’s bed, for he could 
not bear it and he cried quite pitifully; so it 
was a real pleasure for the lady, that she could 
get away. 

Meanwhile the two boys understood each 
other splendidly, for Rico could answer Silvio’s 
questions very well and when he did not know 
the right word at once, then he made himself 
understood with signs, and that kind of con- 
versation Silvio found most entertaining. 
The mother could look at her flower-beds and 
grape vines, and the beautiful fig trees in the 
fields round about, without having Silvio call 
her a single time. 

But when now she returned and it was grow- 
ing dark, Rico rose to leave. Little Silvio 
made a great noise and held Rico with both 
hands by his short coat and would not let him 
go if he would not promise that he would come 
tomorrow and every following day. But Mrs. 
Menotti was a cautious woman; she had indeed 
understood the landlady’s message and she 
[ 92 ] 


RICO MAKES NEW FRIENDS 

now quieted Silvio and promised him that she 
would go very soon to the innkeeper’s wife and 
talk things over with her, for Rico could not 
promise anything. 

At last the sick child let go of the jacket and 
gave his hand to Rico, although the latter did 
not like to leave the pleasant room, where he felt 
happy and where it was so still and everything 
looked so pretty, and where Silvio and his 
mother were so friendly to him. 

A few days passed, when late one afternoon, 
Mrs. Menotti, much dressed, appeared in the 
“Golden Sun,” and the landlady ran to meet 
her and conducted her to the hall upstairs. 
Mrs. Menotti asked very politely, whether it 
would not suit the landlady of the “Golden 
Sun” to let Mrs. Menotti have Rico a few 
evenings in the week; he entertained her little 
boy so well and she would gladly do her share 
in whatever the landlady wished. 

The landlady was flattered that the highly- 
respected lady should come to ask her for a 
favor, and it was settled at once that Rico 
should come every free evening, and Mrs. 
Menotti, in return, undertook to supply Rico 
with clothes, so that the landlady was delighted 
with the arrangement; for now she had not to 
pay a cent for Rico, and everything he received 
[ 93 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

was pure gain for her. So the two women 
parted, satisfied with their arrangement. 

Thus the days went by for Rico. In a short 
time he spoke Italian as fluently as if he had 
always known it. And once he did know it. 
So he remembered one thing after another, and 
he had a good ear and he spoke it like an Ital- 
ian, so that all people were surprised at it. 
The landlady could use him better than she 
had expected, for he attended to her business as 
properly and neatly, as she herself could do it, 
for she did not have the patience, and when 
something had to be prepared for a feast, per- 
haps a wedding, then Rico had to do it, for he 
knew what was beautiful and could bring it 
about. 

When he ran his errands, he was back before 
the landlady thought that he had arrived at the 
place where he was sent, for he never wasted 
time in conversation. When anyone wanted to 
question him about himself, he turned around 
and walked away. This pleased the landlady 
particularly, when she noticed it, and gave her 
a great respect for the boy, so that she herself 
did not question him, and so it came that no 
one really knew, how he had come to Peschiera; 
but a story had spread, which everyone ac- 
cepted, namely, that he, an orphan, had been 
[ 94 ] 


RICO MAKES NEW FRIENDS 

badly treated high up in the mountains, that 
he had run away, and had met with many 
dangers on the long journey and had at last 
arrived where the people were not so uncouth 
as they were in the mountains, and that he 
loved to be here. And when the landlady 
told the story she did not forget to add that 
he deserved having found a home under her 
roof. 

When the first dance-Sunday came, there 
assembled at the “Golden Sun” a most sur- 
prisingly large crowd, so that they did not 
know where to put them all, for everyone 
wanted to see the small musician and hear 
him, and those who had heard him the first 
evening came first of all, and wanted to begin 
with their song. 

The landlady ran hither and thither in the 
ardor of work and shone, as if she herself had 
turned into the “Golden Sun”, and when she 
met her husband, she said each time victori- 
ously: “Did I not tell you so?” 

Rico listened first to a dance played by the 
three musicians who had come, and the melody 
fell so in his ear and his fingers, that he could 
at once play with them, and now he knew the 
dance forever. So it came about that, late in 
the evening, when they stopped dancing, he 
[ 95 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

could play all the dances with the others, for 
each dance had been played a number of times. 

At the end, the Peschiera song had to be 
sung, accompanied by Rico, and if there had 
been a great noise the whole evening, now the 
hearts of the Peschierans became more and 
more inflamed and there was such a noise that 
Rico thought, “Now they will fly at each 
other and kill each other.” But all the noise 
was an expression of friendship and he himself 
came in for such ear-splitting applause, that he 
kept on thinking, “If it were only over,” for 
there was nothing more distasteful to Rico 
than noise. 

In the evening the landlady said to her hus- 
band: “Have you seen it? Next time we 
shall need only two musicians.” 

And the husband was very contented and 
said: “We must give something to the boy.” 

Two days later there was a dance above in 
Desenzano, and Rico was sent there with the 
musicians. It was the same noise and com- 
motion, and although the Peschiera-song was 
not requested, there was the same loud noise 
about other things, and Rico thought from 
beginning to end: “If it were only over!” 

He brought home a whole pocketful of 
money; this he let roll all uncounted over the 
[ 96 ] 


RICO MAKES NEW FRIENDS 

table, for it belonged to the landlady, and she 
praised him and placed a large piece of apple- 
cake before him. The following Sunday there 
was again a dance in Riva on the other side of 
the lake. This time Rico was glad, for Riva 
was the spot on the other side of the lake which 
looked from Peschiera like a sunny beach, with 
friendly white houses round about the shore, 
which were reflected in the lake. 

The musicians went in the afternoon in an 
open boat over the golden lake with the blue 
sky above them and Rico thought, “If I could 
sail thus with Stineli! How astonished she 
would be about the lake in which she would 
not believe!’* 

But at Riva the same racket went on and 
Rico wished himself away again, for it was so 
much more beautiful to look at Riva from the 
other side in the quiet twilight, than to sit here 
in the midst of the terrible noise. 

But when there was no dance-day, Rico 
could go every evening to little Silvio and stay 
for a long time, for the landlady wanted to 
make herself obliging to Mrs. Menotti. Rico 
loved to go there, that was his joy. When he 
passed the lake, he went to the narrow bridge 
and sat down on the ground for a while ; for this 
was the only spot where he had the feeling that 
[ 97 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 
he might be at home. There he could see 
everything most vividly, as it used to be when 
he had a home. For what he saw before him, 
he had seen in former days, and here he could 
see his mother most plainly. There she had 
stood at the lake and had washed something, 
and now and then she had looked at him and said 
some loving words, and he sat in the same spot 
where he now sat. All that he remembered 
perfectly well. He always left there reluc- 
tantly, but he knew that Silvio was listening for 
his step. When he then came through the gar- 
den he felt happy again and he liked to enter 
the quiet, clean house. Mrs. Menotti was 
friendlier to him than anyone else, he felt that; 
she had great compassion for the forsaken 
orphan, as she called him, for she had heard 
the story of his running away. But never had 
she asked Rico anything about his life in the 
mountains, for she thought that it would only 
waken sad memories in him. She also felt 
that Rico had not the care which a little boy of 
his age and his quiet habits, ought to have, but 
she could do nothing, but have him with her as 
often as she could get him. She often put her 
hand on his head and said, full of pity: 

“You poor orphan!” 

Rico became, with every day, more necessary 
[ 98 ] 


RICO MAKES NEW FRIENDS 

to Silvio. In the morning he began to lament 
and to call for Rico, and when he was in pain, 
then he screamed more, and could not be 
quieted, when Rico could not come. For 
since Rico could talk so fluently, Silvio had 
found a new, ever-flowing source of amuse- 
ment which was the story-telling. 

Rico had begun to talk of Stineli to Silvio, 
and since he felt happy in talking of her, he 
grew so lively and entertaining, that he seemed 
no longer the same boy. He told hundreds of 
stories: How Stineli once caught Sami by one 
leg, just when he was falling into the water- 
hole, and how she had to pull and pull and 
shout the while with all her might, while Sami 
shouted below until the father came along 
quite slowly, for he assumed that it was chil- 
dren’s nature to scream without any need. 
And how she cut dolls for Peterli and made 
furniture for Urschli from all kinds of material, 
wood and moss and grasses. And how all the 
children called for Stineli when they were sick, 
because they forgot what hurt them when she 
entertained them. And then Rico told how 
he went out with Stineli, and how beautiful she 
was, his eyes shone so that his whole body 
became excited, and little Silvio also became 
excited and wanted to hear more. And 
[ 99 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

when Rico stopped, then he called out, “Tell 
again about Stineli!” But one evening Silvio 
became more excited when Rico wanted to 
go away, and said that he could not come 
tomorrow, nor the day after, which was 
Sunday. 

Silvio screamed for his mother, as if the house 
were on fire and he lay in the midst of the 
flames, and when she rushed in from the gar- 
den, he called out: “ Rico must never again go 
to the inn, he must stay here. He must always 
stay here. You must stay here, Rico, you 
must, you must!” 

Then Rico said: “I should like to, but I 
have to go.” 

Mrs. Menotti was in great perplexity; she 
knew indeed, what Rico was to the inn people, 
and that she could not get him on any condi- 
tion. So she pacified Silvio as well as she 
could and drew Rico compassionately to her 
heart saying: “Oh, you poor orphan!” 

Then Silvio shouted in his anger: “What is 
an orphan.?^ I, too, want to be an orphan!” 

But now the mother became excited and said : 
“Oh, Silvio, do you want to be sinful? See, 
dear, an orphan is a poor child who has no 
father and no mother and is nowhere at home 
in the wide world.” 


[ 100 ] 


RICO MAKES NEW FRIENDS 

Rico had riveted his dark eyes on Mrs. 
Menotti, they looked blacker and blacker; but 
she did not notice it. She had forgotten Rico, 
when she, in her excitement, explained to 
Silvio. Rico crept softly out and away. 
Mrs. Menotti thought that he had gone so 
softly, so that he would not excite the Hide 
boy, and she was satisfied. She sat down by 
the little bed and said: “Listen, Silvio, I will 
explain it to you, and then you must not make 
this noise again. See, my boy, one cannot 
take boys away, for if I wanted to take Rico 
from the innkeepers, then they could come 
and take my Silvio. Then you could never 
again see the garden and the fiowers and must 
sleep alone in the room where the harness 
hangs, and where Rico does not like to go; he 
has often told you that. What would you 
then do?” 

“Come home again,” was Silvio’s decisive 
reply, but nevertheless he kept quiet and lay 
down. 

Rico went through the garden, and over the 
street down to the lake. There he sat down 
in his little spot and laid his head in his hands 
and said with a comfortless voice: “I know 
now, mother; I am nowhere at home in this 
whole world.” 


[ 101 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 
And thus he sat in his great sadness till late 
in the night, and would have preferred to stay 
there, but he had finally to return to his bed- 
room. 


[ 102 ] 


CHAPTER XV 


Silvio* s Mother Makes a Promise 


UT in little Silvio the excitement worked 
on and when he now knew that Rico 
would not come for two days in suc- 
cession, he began to call out early in 
the morning: “Now Rico is not com- 
ing! Now Rico is not coming ! ” and continued 
calling with short pauses between, until even- 
ing. And the next morning early, he began 
again. But this activity had used him up so 
that on the third day he was like a little heap 
of straw, which a spark could bring into bright 
flames. 

Rico appeared toward evening still disgusted 
from the noises of the dances, where he had 
played. Since he now knew that he was no- 
where at home, the thought of Stineli had re- 
ceived new power and he said to himself: 
“There is only Stineli in the whole world to 
whom I belong, and who troubles herself about 
me.” And there came over him a great long- 
ing for Stineli. He hardly sat by Silvio’s bed, 
when he said: “Do you see, Silvio, only with 
[ 103 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 
Stineli one feels happy and nowhere else.” 
These words were hardly uttered when the 
little fellow pulled himself up on his cord and 
shouted with all his might: “Mother, I want 
Stineli, Stineli must come. One feels happy 
only with Stineli and nowhere else in the whole 
world!” 

The mother came in, and since she had often 
listened with much satisfaction to Rico’s story 
of Stineli and her small sisters and brothers, she 
knew whom this outburst concerned, and said : 
“Yes, indeed, I should be glad, for I could use 
a little Stineli for you and myself, if I only had 
one!” 

But Silvio did not accept such uncertain 
utterances, he was all fire and flame for his 
wish. 

“Now you can have one at once,” he cried, 
“Rico knows where she is, he must fetch her; I 
will have Stineli, every day and always. Rico 
must get her tomorrow, he knows where she 
is.” 

When the mother found that Silvio had 
thought everything out and wanted to take the 
thing quite seriously, she began to turn his 
mind to something else, for she had heard sev- 
eral times of the many unheard-of dangers 
Rico had to overcome on his journey, and how 
c 104 ] 


SILVIO’S MOTHER MAKES A PROMISE 

it was looked upon as a great wonder that he 
had reached Peschiera alone, and what a ter- 
rible wild people were living up there in the 
mountains. So she knew that no human being 
could fetch down such a maiden and least of 
all, a tender boy like Rico; he might perish 
miserably if he were to try such a thing, and 
then she would have the responsibility of it, 
and that she could not and would not have, for 
she had already enough. 

She presented to Silvio the impossibility of 
the whole thing and talked to him of all kinds 
of terrible occurrences and vicious people who 
might pursue Rico and kill him. But it was all 
of no use. Little Silvio had fixed the idea 
firmly in his head as never anything before in 
his life; for whatever the mother could say and 
however eagerly she talked from fear, as soon 
as she stopped, Silvio said : “ Rico must get her, 
he knows where she is.” 

Then the mother said: “And if Rico knows, 
do you think that he would run into danger and 
temptation, when he can have things as he has, 
and need not go to wicked people?” 

Then Silvio looked at Rico and said: “Will 
you go and fetch Stineli, Rico, or will you not? ” 

“Yes, I will,” Rico answered firmly. 

“Oh, dear heavens, now Rico too becomes 
[ 105 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

senseless ! ” cried the mother in terror. “ Then 
I know no help. Take the violin, Rico, and 
play and sing something, I must go into the 
garden.” With these words Mrs. Menotti ran 
hastily out under the fig trees, for she thought 
that Silvio would then forget his idea quickly, 
when he could not tease something from her. 

But the two good friends within did neither 
play nor sing; but talked each other into a per- 
fect fever with all kinds of projects, how Sti- 
neli could be fetched and how things would 
turn out afterwards, when she was there. 
Rico forgot entirely to go home, although it had 
become quite dark, for Mrs. Menotti purposely 
did not come into the house, she was hoping 
that Silvio would fall asleep. At last she 
came in and Rico went at once, but she had a 
hard battle with Silvio. He refused absolutely 
to close his eyes until his mother would promise 
that Rico must fetch Stineli, and that she 
could not do, and so Silvio came to no rest until 
the mother said: “Be contented, everything 
will be arranged over night.” For she thought 
that he would forget his wish over night, as he 
usually did and something new would come into 
his mind. 

Then Silvio grew still and fell asleep. But 
the mother had reckoned wrong. She was not 
[ 106 ] 


SILVIO’S MOTHER MAKES A PROMISE 

quite awake, the next morning, when Silvio 
called out of his bed : “ Is everything arranged, 
mother?” 

Since she could not assure him that it was, 
such a storm started as she had never experi- 
enced before with the little boy, and it went on 
until late in the evening, and the morning after 
Silvio began again where he had left off the 
night before. 

Silvio had never yet shown such a persist- 
ency in the same wish. When he screamed and 
lamented she could bear it, but when the hours 
of his pain came, then the poor little chap 
whimpered and moaned pitifully: “Only with 
Stineli one feels well, and nowhere else!” 

This pierced the mother’s heart and it seemed 
to her like an accusation, just as if she would 
do nothing that could help him to feel well; but 
how could she think of such a thing, when she 
herself had heard Rico answer Silvio’s question, 
“Do you really know the way to Stineli?” 
“No, I do not know the way, but I shall find 
it.” 

She hoped from day to day that through some 
happy event a new demand would come into 
Silvio’s head, for it always had been so, she 
could depend usually on that: if he had de- 
manded something when he felt well, then he 
[ 107 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

surely would not wish it as soon as his pains 
came. But this time it was different, and 
there was a good cause for it. Rico’s stories 
and expressions about Stineli had created, in 
the susceptible mind of the little boy, the belief 
that nothing would hurt him any more, as soon 
as Stineli should be with him. Therefore 
Silvio acted more and more pitifully from day 
to day and his mother did not know where she 
could find counsel and help. 


[ 108 ] 


CHAPTER XVI 
The Minister Finds a Way 

N this state of unrest, it was for Mrs. 
Menotti a real comfort, when she, after 
a long time, saw the well-meaning old 
pastor in his long black coat, coming 
into the garden, who now and then 
came to visit the little sick boy. She jumped 
up from her chair and exclaimed joyfully: 
“Look, Silvio, there comes the good pastor!” 
and she went to meet him. But Silvio, in his 
anger with everything cried out as loud as 
he could, after his mother: “I would rather 
Stineli would come!” 

But then he hastily crawled beneath his 
cover, so that the reverend gentleman should 
not know from where the voice came. The 
mother was much frightened and begged the 
pastor, on stepping into the house, not to take 
the reception amiss, it was really not intended 
seriously. Silvio did not stir, he only said 
quite softly beneath his cover, “Yes, indeed, I 
mean it.” 

The pastor must have guessed from where 
[ 109 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

the voice came; he stepped at once up to the 
bed, and although not a hair could be seen of 
Silvio, he said: “Good for a greeting, my son, 
how goes it with your health, and why do you 
hide in your subterranean hole like a small 
badger? Come out and explain to me, what 
you know about Stineli?” 

Now Silvio crawled out, for he had respect 
for the reverend gentleman, since he was now 
so near to him. He quickly held out his thin 
hand to him for greeting and said, “Rico’s 
Stineli.” 

Now the mother had to explain, for the pas- 
tor shook his head, surprised, while he sat 
down at Silvio’s bed. She told him the whole 
affair and about Stineli, and how the small Sil- 
vio had got it in his head that he never would 
be contented again if Stineli did not come to 
him, and how Rico too had become unreason- 
able about it and thought that he could fetch 
the girl although he did not know the way, and 
she lived far away in the mountains where no 
one could get, and one did not know what ter- 
rible people lived up there, for one could fancy 
what kinds of things must happen there, if a 
tender boy like Rico had rather face the great- 
est dangers than to stay among such people. 
If everything were different, Mrs. Menotti 
[ 110 ] 


THE MINISTER FINDS A WAY 

added, then no money would be too much to 
let a girl like Stineli come, to satisfy Silvio’s 
longings and to have someone for him, for what 
she had to bear often seemed too much for her, 
and she thought that she could not stand it 
much longer. 

And Rico, who otherwise talked so sensibly, 
thought no one could help her so well as this 
Stineli. He must know her well, and if the 
girl was as he described her, then it might be a 
salvation for a girl, if she should come away 
from there above; but she knew of no one who 
could do her such a service. 

The parson had listened very seriously and 
had said never a word, until Mrs. Menotti had 
finished. He could not very well have put in a 
word, for she had not opened her heart for a 
long time, and it had been so full, and Mrs. 
Menotti, from the pressure of words, had almost 
lost her breath. 

When all was quiet, the old gentleman first 
added another snuff to one before; then he said 
very slowly: “Hm, hm, Mrs. Menotti, I 
almost think that you have an opinion of the 
people among the mountains, which is almost 
too terrifying; there are also Christians, and 
since one has invented all kinds of means to 
travel, it will be possible for one to get up there 
[ 111 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

without danger. One can find that out; it has 
to be planned.” 

Here the gentleman had to fortify himself 
with another snuff, then he added: “There are 
all kinds of traders, who come from above to 
Bergamo; sheep-traders and horse-traders, 
who must know the way. One can make in- 
quiries, and then one can decide; means will be 
found. If you care much for it, Mrs. Menotti, 
then I will look around; I go once or twice every 
year to Bergamo, so I could manage the thing 
a little.” 

Mrs. Menotti was so grateful, that she did 
not know how to express it to the pastor. All 
at once the sad thoughts which had oppressed 
her for so many days and nights, and in which 
she had become so entangled that she could not 
see a way out of it, had all been taken from her. 
The old gentleman had taken the whole burden 
on himself, and she could, from now on, direct 
Silvio to him. 

Silvio, during the whole conversation had 
almost pierced the pastor with his gray eyes. 
When the latter now rose, and offered his hand 
to the child, Silvio put his so strongly into the 
gentleman’s as if he would say with this : “ This 
time I mean it!” The pastor promised to 
report, as soon as he had made his inquiries 
[ 112 ] 


THE MINISTER FINDS A WAY 

and knew whether the thing could be carried 
out, or whether Silvio had to give up his desire. 

The weeks passed one after the other but 
Silvio behaved himself well. He had a fixed 
hope before him, and moreover Rico had be- 
come all at once more entertaining and lively 
than ever before. It had hit him like a kindling 
gleam of joy, when he heard the decision of the 
reverend gentleman; and since then, new life 
had sprouted in him. He told Silvio more 
than ever, and when he took his violin, he 
played such heart-refreshing tunes and melo- 
dies, that Mrs. Menotti did not wish to leave 
the room, and she could not stop wondering 
where Rico got all this music. 

Rico had only real joy in playing in this 
home; it sounded so beautiful in this large, high 
room, and it was so still and airy and there 
was no tobacco smoke and no human tumult, 
and he need not play just the dances, he could 
play what gave him joy. Rico loved this 
house better every day and often when he 
entered it he thought: “Someone who comes 
home feels, no doubt, as I do when I come into 
this room. ” But yet he was not at home here. 
He only could come for a few hours, and then he 
had to leave again. 

Something had come up in Rico which set 
[ 113 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

the innkeeper’s wife often to wondering. 
When she placed the dirty, broken garbage- 
basin before him and said: “Here, Rico, take 
that to the chickens!” — he went a little to one 
side, placed his hands on his back as a sign 
that he would not touch the basin and said 
quietly: “I should prefer that someone else 
would do that.” And when she brought out 
the old shoes and wanted to put them into 
Rico’s hand, to take them to the shoemaker, 
Rico did the same thing and said: “I should 
prefer someone else should go there.” 

But the landlady was a wise woman and had 
her eyes in her head to see what was going on, 
and it had not escaped her, how Rico had 
changed , and how he looked . Mrs . Menotti had 
always dressed him well since she had under- 
taken to do so; but since everything looked well 
on Rico and he looked always more and more 
like a gentleman’s son, Mrs. Menotti found 
pleasure in him and dressed him in good mate- 
rial, and Rico took great care with his clothes 
for he liked everything that was pretty and 
fine, and he despised dirt and disorder as he did 
the noise. The landlady saw all this, and 
added to that, she knew well that Rico, just as 
he had done the first time, when he returned 
from the dances in the neighborhood, emptied 
[ 114 ] 


THE MINISTER FINDS A WAY 

his pocket and let the money roll on the table 
without showing that he even wished for any 
of it. 

And he brought always more, for he was not 
only a dance-fiddler like the others, but the 
people wanted always to hear his songs after 
the dancing, and all kinds of melodies which he 
knew. Therefore the landlady was anxious to 
keep Rico in good humor, and she did not 
trouble him any more with the hens and the old 
shoes. 

Three years had passed since Rico had arrived 
at Peschiera. He was now fifteen years old, 
a tall boy, and whoever looked at him was 
delighted with him. 

The autumnal golden sun was shining again 
over the Garda Lake and the blue heavens lay 
on the peaceful flood. In the garden, the 
grapes hung like gold from their branches, and 
the red oleander flowers shone in the bright 
sunshine. In Silvio’s room it was quite still, 
for the mother had gone into the garden to 
fetch grapes and figs for the evening. Silvio 
was listening for Rico’s step, for it was the time 
when he usually came. Now the gate in the 
fence opened; Silvio rose on his cord like a shot. 
A long black coat came wandering up the path. 
It was the pastor. Silvio did not hide this 
[ 115 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

time; he stretched out his hand as far as he 
could, toward the pastor, long before the latter 
had reached the house. This reception pleased 
the old man. He entered the room at once 
and came to Silvio’s bed, although he saw the 
mother behind in the garden, and he said : “So, 
it is right, my son, and how is your health?” 

“ Good,” answered Silvio quickly. He looked 
with intense eagerness at the old gentleman 
and then asked in a low voice: “When can 
Rico go?” 

The old pastor sat down by the bed and said 
with a solemn voice: “Tomorrow at five, Rico 
will start on his journey, my little son.” 

Mrs. Menotti had just entered, and now there 
began a questioning and surprise on her part, 
so that the pastor had trouble in quieting her, 
in order that he might explain his report with- 
out being interrupted. He succeeded at last, 
and Silvio held his eyes fixed on him like a little 
sparrow-hawk, when he told his story. 

The pastor was just coming from Bergamo, 
where he had spent two days. There he had, 
with the help of his friends, found a horse- 
trader, who had come every autumn to Ber- 
gamo for the last thirty years, and knew every 
road and region from there to far over the 
mountains, where Rico had to go. He also 
[ 116 ] 


THE MINISTER FINDS A WAY 

knew how one could get into the mountains 
without getting out of the train and to sleep on 
the way. He himself was making the same 
tour and would take Rico along, if he could 
arrive in Bergamo tomorrow morning with the 
first train. The man knew also every driver 
and conductor and would surrender and recom- 
mend Rico and his companion to these people, 
so that they would travel safely. So the pastor 
thought that Rico could go in peace and he gave 
his blessing for the journey. 

But when he stood already at the garden 
gate, Mrs. Menotti, who had accompanied 
him, turned back once more and asked, full of 
anxiety: “Oh, reverend friend, are you sure 
that there is no danger on this journey; or that 
Rico could be lost, and then would have to 
wander about in the wild mountains .5^” 

The pastor calmed her again, and she now 
went back and considered all that had to be 
done for Rico. * He was coming into the gar- 
den and the joyous shouts which Silvio sent 
out to him were so surprising that Rico was 
beside Silvio’s bed in three jumps, to see what 
had happened. 

“What is it? What is it?” Rico kept on 
asking, and Silvio in fear that his mother would 
get ahead of him, kept on shouting : “I will tell 
[ 117 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

it! I will tell it!” But the mother let the 
boys alone with their joy and went after her 
business for that was now the most important. 
She brought out a travelling bag and stuffed in 
the bottom an enormous piece of smoked beef 
and half a loaf of bread, and a large package of 
dried plums and figs, a bottle of wine well 
rolled in a cloth, and then came the clothes: 
two shirts, two pairs of stockings and a pair of 
shoes and handkerchiefs, and in doing this Mrs. 
Menotti felt as if Rico was going to a distant 
part of the globe, and she now only felt how 
dear Rico was to her, so that she could hardly 
live without him. 

Between the packing she had again and 
again to sit down and think: “If only nothing 
happens to him!” She came down with the 
bag, and she told Rico to go at once to the 
Inn and to explain everything fully to the 
landlady and ask her to let him go, and he 
could take the bag along and leave it at the 
station. 

Rico was greatly surprised at his baggage; 
but he did obediently as he was told, and then 
went to the landlady. He told her that he 
must go up in the mountains to fetch Stineli, 
and it came from the pastor, that he had to 
start the very next morning at five o’clock. 

[ 118 ] 


THE MINISTER FINDS A WAY 

That the pastor had to do with this journey 
awoke some respect in the landlady. But she 
wanted to know who Stineli was, and what she 
intended to do; she thought at once that this 
might be something for her. But she only 
learned, that Stineli was a girl whose name was 
Stineli and that she was coming to Mrs. 
Menotti. Then she dropped the subject for 
she would not interfere with Mrs. Menotti’s 
doings ; she was contented enough that she had 
let her have Rico so long. She also assumed 
that Stineli was Rico’s sister, only he did not 
say so, as he never had said anything about his 
family. 

And so she told all the guests who came to 
the Inn that evening, that Rico was going to- 
morrow into the mountains to fetch down his 
sister, for he had learned how good people were 
here in Peschiera. 

But she wanted to show how good she was to 
Rico. She fetched a large basket down from 
the attic and filled it with sausages and cheese, 
eggs and slices of bread with butter a finger 
thick between them. 

“You must not be hungry on your journey, 
and the rest you can use there among the 
mountains, you will not find too much there, 
and you need something for your return jour- 
[ 119 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

ney. For you are surely coming back, Rico, 
are you?” 

“Indeed, I am,” said Rico, “1 shall be back 
in a week.” 

He carried his violin to Mrs. Menotti, for he 
would not entrust it to anyone else, and now 
he took leave for eight days, for he could be 
back in that time, if everything went well. 


[ 120 ] 



CHAPTER XVII 
Back Over the Mountains 

|N the morning, long before five o’clock, 
Rico was at the station, ready for his 
journey, and could hardly wait until 
the train took him on. Now he was 
in the car as he was three years ago, 
but no longer pressed timidly in the corner of 
the seat; now he needed a whole seat, for beside 
him lay his bag and basket. In Bergamo he 
met, as arranged, the horse-trader, and now 
they travelled on together undisturbed in the 
same car, then over the lake. Then they 
got out and walked toward an inn, where the 
horses stood ready harnessed to the large post- 
chaise. 

Rico remembered distinctly how he had 
stood here in the night, quite alone, after the 
students had gone, and on the other side he 
saw the stable door, where he had seen the 
lantern hanging and then had again found the 
sheep-trader. It was already evening and they 
soon mounted the postchaise, and drove to- 
ward the mountains. This time Rico sat with 
[ 121 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

his companion inside the coach, and he had 
hardly sat down in the corner when his eyes 
closed, for from excitement he had not slept an 
hour the night before. Now he made up for it. 
Without wakening once, Rico slept on until the 
sun stood high in the heavens and the coach 
went very slowly, and when he put his head 
out of the window, Rico saw, to his indescrib- 
able surprise, that the coach was going up the 
zigzag road which led up the Maloja, which he 
knew well. 

He could not see much from the window, only 
now and then a turn of the highway; and he 
would like to have seen all round about. Now 
the coach stopped, they had reached the top. 
There was the inn, there he had sat down near 
the road and had talked with the coach-driver. 
All travellers got down for a moment, while the 
horses were fed. Rico too got out of the coach ; 
he went to the driver and asked him quite 
humbly: “May I not sit on the box with you, 
as far as Sils?” 

“Get up,” said the coachman. 

All travellers took their seats again, and now 
it went downward in a merry trot along the 
smooth road. Now came the lake. There 
was the wood-covered peninsula, and on the 
other side was Sils-Maria. The little church 
[ 122 ] 


BACK OVER THE MOUNTAINS 

shone in the morning sun, and there toward the 
mountain he saw the two small houses. 

His heart began to beat very strongly. 
Where could Stineli be ? Only a few more steps 
and the postchaise stopped. They were in ^ 
Sils! 

Stineli had experienced many a hard day 
since Rico’s disappearance. The children 
grew and there was always more to be done, 
and most of the work fell on Stineli, for she was 
the oldest of the children. So everyone said: 
“Stineli can do that, she is old enough,” and 
then at once after: “Stineli can do that, for 
she is still young.” She could not share joy 
with anyone, since Rico had gone, if she had 
had a moment’s time for joy. 

A year ago, the good grandmother had died, 
and from then on, there was not a free moment 
any more for Stineli; for there was so much 
work from morning until evening that it was 
never finished, but was always just in the midst 
of it. 

But Stineli had not lost her good courage, 
although she had mourned very much for the 
grandmother, and she thought every day sev- 
eral times, without grandmother and Rico the 
world was no longer as beautiful as it had been. 
On a sunny Saturday morning, she was coming 
[ 123 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 
with a large bundle of straw on her head, from 
behind the barn; she wanted to make straw 
whisks to sweep with in the evening. The 
sun was shining brightly on the dry road to Sils 
and she stopped and looked across. A young 
fellow was coming along the road. She did not 
know him; that was no Silser, she could see 
that at once. And as he came nearer, he 
stopped, and looked at Stineli and she looked 
at him and was much surprised, but all at once 
Stineli threw down her bundle of straw and 
ran toward the young fellow, crying: “Rico, 
oh, Rico, is it you.^ Are you still living.? Is it 
really you and you have come back.? But you 
have grown, I did not know you at first; but 
when I looked in your face, I knew you at 
once! No one has a face like you!” 

And Stineli stood before her friend, red as 
fire from joy, and Rico was as white as snow 
from inner excitement and could not speak at 
first and only looked at Stineli. Then he said : 
“You too have grown, Stineli, but else you are 
still as you used to be. The nearer I came to 
the house, the greater grew my fear that per- 
haps you had changed.” 

“Oh, Rico, that you are here again!” re- 
joiced Stineli. “Oh, if Grandmother knew it! 
But you must come in, Rico, how surprised they 
[ 124 ] 


BACK OVER THE MOUNTAINS 
all will be!” Stineli ran ahead and opened 
the door and Rico went in. The children hid 
at once always one behind the other, and the 
mother rose and greeted Rico like a stranger 
and asked what he would like to have. Neither 
she nor one of the children had recognized him. 

“Do you not all know him.?^” Stineli broke 
forth. “It is Rico!” 

Now the wondering began on all sides, and 
they were still at it when the father entered, for 
his midday meal. 

Rico went to meet him and offered his hand. 
The father took it and looked at the young 
fellow. “Is it perhaps one of our cousins.^^” 
the father asked, for he did not know his rela- 
tives very well. 

“Now father does not know him either,” 
said Stineli, a little aroused. “Don’t you 
know him? It is Rico, father!” 

“Well, well, that is good,” remarked the 
father and looked at him from head to foot, 
then he added, “you may show yourself, have 
you learned some kind of a trade? Come sit 
down with us, then you can tell how things 
have gone with you.” 

Rico did not sit down at once, he kept on 
looking at the door; at last he asked hesitat- 
ingly : “ Where is Grandmother? ” The father 
[ 125 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 
answered that she was lying in Sils, not far 
from the old teacher. Rico had hesitated to 
put the question, because he feared the answer, 
since he saw the grandmother nowhere. Now 
he sat down with the rest, but he was very 
quiet for some time, and he could not eat; he 
had loved the grandmother. 

But now the father wanted to hear the story, 
where Rico had gone on that day when they 
had searched for him in the mountains. Then 
Rico told all that he had experienced and came 
to talk of Silvio and Mrs. Menotti and now ex- 
plained clearly why he had come, and that he 
wanted to return to Peschiera with Stineli as 
soon as the parents would allow it. Stineli 
opened her eyes wide while Rico told his story. 
She had not heard a word of all this. Her 
heart burned with joy: to go with Rico to his 
lake and be again together with him every day 
and with the good lady and Silvio who wanted 
her. 

The father was silent for some time, for he 
never was over-hasty. Then he said: “It is 
right, that one should go among strangers, she 
learns something, but Stineli cannot go, it can- 
not be thought of. She is necessary at home; 
another can go, perhaps Trudi.” 

“Yes, yes, that is better,” said the mother, 
[ 126 ] 


BACK OVER THE MOUNTAINS 
“I cannot do without Stineli.” Then Trudi 
lifted up her head and said: “I should like it, 
for with us there is nothing but screamings of 
the children.” 

Stineli did not say a word; she only looked 
eagerly at Rico, to see whether he would not say 
anything more, since father had refused so de- 
cidedly, and whether now he would take Trudi 
back with him. But Rico looked fearlessly at 
the father and said : 

“ That will not do. The sick Silvio will have 
no one else but Stineli, and he knows what he 
wants. He would just send Trudi back again, 
and then she would have made the journey for 
nothing. And Mrs. Menotti has told me that, 
if Stineli got on well with Silvio she could send 
every month five florins home, if you should 
wish it, and that Silvio and Stineli will get on 
together I am as sure of as if I saw it already 
with my own eyes.” 

When the father was through with eating, 
he put his plate aside and put on his cap. For 
hard thinking he liked to have his cap on his 
head, as if the cap could keep his thoughts 
together. 

Now he thought within himself, how hard he 
had to work before he could get one florin, and 
then he said to himself: “Five florins without 
[ 127 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 
moving a finger.” Then he pushed the cap to 
the other side of his head, and then back again, 
and then he said: ‘‘She can go, another child 
can do something, too.” 

Stineli’s eyes shone, but the mother looked, 
sighing, at the many heads and plates, for who 
was to help keep these all clean And Trudi 
pushed Peterli with her elbow and said, “Do 
sit still for once,” although he was quietly eat- 
ing his beans. 

But the father once more pushed his cap, 
something had come into his mind. “But 
Stineli is not yet confirmed,” he said. “She 
will have to be confirmed.” 

“I am going to be confirmed only two years 
from now,” said Stineli eagerly. “I can very 
well go away for the two years and then come 
back home again.” That was a good way out 
of the difficulty, and they all were contented. 
The father and the mother thought, if every- 
thing went wrong without Stineli, then it 
would be only for a time, and that would pass 
and afterward she would be there again, and 
Trudi thought: “As soon as she is back again, 
then I will go and then they will see who comes 
back.” But Rico and Stineli looked at each 
other and bright joy shone from their eyes. 

Since the father now looked upon the thing 
[ 128 ] 


BACK OVER THE MOUNTAINS 
as decided, he rose from the table and said: 
“They may go tomorrow, then one knows 
what one has to do.” But the mother began 
to lament and said that must not be so soon, 
and she kept on lamenting until the father 
said: “Then they may go Monday,” but he 
did not wish to delay, because he thought that 
the lamenting would continue until parting had 
taken place. 

There was much to be done by Stineli, Rico 
understood that, and he turned to Sami and 
said to him that he wanted to see whether 
things had changed in Sils-Maria; and then he 
had to fetch a bag and a basket from Sils, Sami 
could help him carry them. So they started 
out. Rico stopped before his former home 
first and looked at the old house-door; all was 
the same. He asked Sami whether the aunt 
was still living there all alone. But the aunt 
had long since gone away, high up to Silva- 
plana, and no one had seen her again, for she 
never came to Sils-Maria. In the house lived 
people of whom Rico knew nothing. Every- 
where he went with Sami before the old, well- 
known houses and also before the barns, people 
stared at him, but not a single person recog- 
nized him. When they went to Sils toward 
evening, Rico turned into the churchyard; he 
[ 129 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

wanted to go to the grandmother’s grave, but 
Sami did not know exactly which it was. 

Loaded with bag and basket, the two re- 
turned when it began to be dark. Stineli stood 
at the well and was cleaning the feeding pail 
for the last time, and when Rico stood beside 
her, she said with beaming eyes: “I cannot 
yet really believe it, Rico!” 

“But I can,” said the latter so firmly that 
Stineli looked at him, much surprised. “But 
do you know, Stineli,” he added, “you have 
not had to think of it so long as I.” 

Stineli was surprised several times more that 
Rico could say anything so decidedly ; she had 
not known that in him formerly. 

A bed had been arranged for Rico in the 
attic room; up there he took his things, for he 
did not want to unpack until tomorrow. When 
now, on the following morning, on the bright, 
beautiful Sunday, all sat around the table, 
Rico came and shook such a heap of plums 
and figs before Urschli and Peterli as they had 
never seen in their whole life; and they never 
had tasted figs; and he placed his quantity of 
meat and sausages and eggs in the middle of 
the table. And after the great astonishment 
had passed, there began a great feast in the 
cottage. 


[ 130 ] 



CHAPTER XVIII 
Two Happy Travellers 
journey had to begin Monday to- 


ward evening. So the horse-dealer had 


told Rico and he now knew his road 
perfectly. So, after the leave-taking 
was over, Rico and Stineli wandered 
toward Sils, and at the little house stood the 
mother and all the little children around her 
and looked after them. Sami walked beside 
them and carried the bag on his head, and the 
basket was carried by Rico on one side and 
Stineli on the other. Stineli’s clothes had just 
filled it. 

Near the church in Sils, Stineli said: “If 
Grandmother could only see us. Let us take 
leave from her, will you, Rico.^’* He was 
ready and told Stineli that he had already been 
there but could not find her; but Stineli knew 
where the grandmother slept. 

When the postchaise drove up and stopped, 
the coachman called out: “Are the two here 
who have to go to the Garda Lake? I have 
already asked yesterday for them.” 


[ 131 ] 


10 


THE STORY OF RICO 

The horse-dealer had well recommended 
them, and now the driver called out: “Up 
here, the others are frozen, the coach is full, 
you are young.” Then he helped them on the 
seat behind the box, up high on the coach, took 
a heavy horse-cover and covered and stuffed it 
around the two, so that they sat there closely 
enveloped; and then the coach started. 

Rico and Stineli sat alone together for the 
first time since they had met again, and now 
they could talk to each other undisturbed of 
all that they had lived through in the three 
years. In the morning they came on the lake 
and just about the same time that Rico had 
arrived at Peschiera they also arrived, and 
they came down the road toward the lake. 
But Rico did not want Stineli to see the lake 
until they had come to his little spot, so he led 
her between the trees, until all at once they 
came out near the narrow bridge and stepped 
into the open. 

There the lake lay in the evening sunshine 
and Rico and Stineli sat down on the low hill- 
side and looked across. The lake was as Rico 
had described it, but much more beautiful, for 
Stineli had never seen such colors. She looked 
hither and thither at the violet mountains and 
on the golden water and, full of delight, she 
[ 132 ] 


TWO HAPPY TRAVELLERS 

exclaimed at last: “It is much more beautiful 
than the Silser Lake.” 

But Rico had never seen it so beautiful as it 
was today, as he sat there with Stineli. Rico 
had another joy — ^how he would surprise Silvio 
and his mother! No one had thought that he 
could be back so soon. No one expected him 
back before a week, and now they already sat 
by the lake. They remained sitting there until 
the sun went down. Rico had to tell Stineli 
where his mother stood when she was washing 
in the lake and he sat there and waited for her, 
and he had to tell her how they came over the 
narrow bridge and she was holding his hand. 

“But where did you go then.?” Stineli asked. 
“Have you never found the house into which 
you went?” 

Rico shook his head. “When I go toward 
the railroad, then it seems to me all at once, as 
if I had stood there with mother and I had sat 
on a step and before us the red flowers; but 
there is nothing more now, and I do not know 
the road, I have never seen it.” 

At last they got up and went toward the 
garden. Rico carried the bag and Stineli the 
basket. When they stepped into the garden, 
Stineli had to exclaim exultantly: “Oh, how 
beautiful! Oh, the beautiful flowers!” 

[ 133 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

Then Silvio lifted himself up like a feather. 
He shouted with all his might: “Rico is 
coming with Stineli!” 

The mother thought that he had fever; she 
threw down her things into the chest in which 
she was rummaging, and came running in. 

At the same moment the living Rico stepped 
in the doorway, and the fright and the joy 
almost knocked the good woman over, for up 
to this moment she had had the worst secret 
misgivings that the journey might cost Rico’s 
life. 

From behind Rico a girl came forth with such 
a friendly face that it at once won the lady’s 
heart, for she was a woman of sudden impulses. 
But first she had to shake Rico’s hands almost 
from their wrists for joy, and during this Stineli 
went quickly to Silvio’s bed and greeted him, 
and she put her arm around the little fellow’s 
narrow shoulders and laughed friendly into his 
face, just as if they had known each other for a 
long time and had loved each other, and Silvio 
put his hand around her neck and drew her face 
down on his. Then Stineli put a present on 
Silvio’s bed which she had put in her pocket to 
have it handy. It was a work of art, which 
Peterli had always liked better than any other 
toy: a fir cone, between the hard projections 
[ 134 ] 


TWO HAPPY TRAVELLERS 
little wires were stuck, at the end of each was 
a little figure cut out of thin wood. All these 
little figures floundered against each other and 
bowed to each other, and had such fiery faces, 
made with red chalk and coal, that Silvio could 
not stop laughing. 

During this, the mother had heard from Rico 
all necessary to assure her that he was back 
again, safe and sound, and now she turned to 
Stineli and greeted her with the greatest friend- 
liness, and Stineli answered more with her 
friendly eyes than her mouth, for she knew no 
Italian, and she had to use the few Italian 
words she knew, the best she could. But she 
was bright and knew how to help herself and if 
she did not know the word then she made all 
kinds of signs with her fingers, which Silvio 
found unspeakably amusing, for it was like a 
game, where something had to be guessed all 
the time. 

Now Mrs. Menotti went to the chest where 
everything was ready for a meal: plates and 
tablecloth, and cold chicken, and the fruit and 
a bottle of wine. As soon as Stineli noticed 
this she ran at once after Mrs. Menotti and 
carried everything to the table, and was so 
astoundingly quick that Mrs. Menotti had 
nothing more to do, but to watch in surprise; 

[ 135 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 
and before she had time to think, Silvio had 
everything on his tray, cut up and laid ready 
and quite properly, as it ought to be, and such 
quick service much pleased our Silvio. 

Then Mrs. Menotti sat down and said: “It 
is long since things went so well with me, but 
now come, Stineli, and sit down and eat with 
us.” 

Now all ate joyously together, just as if they 
had always belonged together and always 
would stay together. Then Rico began to 
report of the journey, and the while Stineli got 
up and cleared everything away again into the 
chest, where everything had its place. Then 
she sat down quite close to Silvio’s bed and 
made figures with her nimble fingers, so that 
the shadow fell upon the wall, and every 
moment Silvio laughed a clear laugh and called 
out: “A hare! An animal with horns! A 
spider with long legs!” 

Thus the evening went by so quickly and 
happily that when the clock struck ten no one 
could understand where the time had gone. 
Rico rose from the table, he knew that now he 
must go; but it seemed as if a black cloud had 
come over his face. He said curtly: “Good 
night!” and went out. But Stineli followed 
him, and at the garden gate she took his hand 
[ 136 ] 



Then she . . . made figures with her nimble fingers so that the shadow 
fell upon the wall. . . . 




TWO HAPPY TRAVELLERS 

and said : “ Now, Rico, you must not be sad, it 
is so beautiful here, I cannot tell you how much 
I like it, and I am so glad. And for all this I 
have to thank you. And you will come to- 
morrow and every day. Aren’t you glad, 
Rico?” 

“Yes,” he said, and looked at Stineli quite 
gloomily, “and every evening, when it is most 
beautiful I have to go away, and I belong to no 
one.” 

“Oh, Rico, you must not think so,” encour- 
aged Stineli, “we always belonged together, 
and I have looked forward, for three years, to 
when we should again be together, and some- 
times things went on at home when I would 
rather not be there; then I thought, ‘if I could 
only be once more with Rico, then I would 
gladly do everything.’ And now everything 
has come so that I could know no greater joy, 
and you will not be glad with me, Rico?” 

“Yes, I will,” said Rico, and looked at Stineli 
with brighter eyes. He did, after all, belong 
to someone, Stineli’s words had brought back 
his balance. They shook hands once more, 
and Rico went out of the garden. 

When Stineli retmned to the room and 
wanted to bid Silvio good night, then a new 
battle had to be fought; he did not want to let 
[ 137 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

her leave him and kept on calling: “Stineli 
must stay with me and always sit by my bed, 
she says such funny words and laughs with her 
eyes.” Nothing could be done, until the 
mother finally said: “All right, hold Stineli by 
her dress, the whole night, so that she cannot 
sleep, then she will be ill tomorrow, as you are, 
and cannot get up, and you will not see her for 
a very long time.” 

Then Silvio let go of Stineli and said: “ Go, 
Stineli, and sleep; but come again tomorrow 
very early.” 

Stineli promised that; and now Mrs. Menotti 
showed Stineli a nice, clean bedroom, which 
looked out on the garden, from which a sweet 
odor of flowers came through the open window. 

From day to day Stineli became more and 
more indispensable to Silvio; if she went only 
out of the door, he considered it a misfortune. 
But then he behaved always properly and well 
when she was with him, and did everything 
that she asked him to do, and did not torment 
his mother any more. It also seemed as if the 
nervous little boy, since Stineli’s arrival, had 
lost all his pains, for up till now he had not 
lamented once since she sat by his bed, and yet 
many a day had passed since the first evening 
when she had appeared. 

[ 138 ] 


TWO HAPPY TRAVELLERS 

But Stineli had an inexhaustible fund of en- 
tertainment, and all that she took in her hand, 
and what she did and said, became a pleasant 
pastime for Silvio, for Stineli, from a little girl 
on, had had to look after little children and had 
to think always, to keep them satisfied with 
words and hands and looks and in every way 
and motion. 

So Stineli was, in her existence and whole 
manner, unconsciously to herself, the most 
agreeable entertainment which could be found 
for a sensitive little boy who was confined to his 
bed. The clever little Stineli had soon learned 
all Silvio’s words, and talked with Silvio undis- 
mayed in Italian, and when she turned her 
words in the wrong places then Silvio thought 
that a capital joke, and the whole thing seemed 
planned to give him pleasure. 

The mother could never see Rico enter the 
garden without running to meet him, for now 
she could run wherever she wanted to, and 
whenever she wanted, and she had to take him 
aside to tell him what a treasure he had brought 
into the house, how happy and joyful little Sil- 
vio was, as never before in his life, and how she 
could not comprehend that such a girl could 
have been found on earth. For, with Silvio she 
was like a child, just as though she herself had 
[ 139 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

the greatest joy in the things which gave 
pleasure to the little boy ; and with her she could 
talk as sensibly, and had such experience in 
work and in arranging things, as hardly a mar- 
ried woman had. And since she had this Sti- 
neli in the house, everything was going as of it- 
self, and she had Sunday every day. In short, 
Mrs. Menotti could not find words enough to 
admire and praise Stineli in all her character- 
istics, and Rico loved to listen to her praise. 

When then they all sat together within, and 
one looked at the other always friendlier, just 
as though none wanted to leave the other any 
more, then one would have thought that they 
were the happiest people far and near. But 
with every evening the cloud on Rico’s face 
became darker and blacker, the moment the 
clock struck ten, and although Mrs. Menotti 
in her happy mood did not notice it, yet Stineli 
saw it and secretly she was troubled and 
thought: “It is as if a thunderstorm wants to 
break forth.” 


[ 140 ] 


CHAPTER XIX 
Clouds on the Garda Lake 

HERE came a beautiful autumnal Sun- 
day, and across the lake in Riva was 
to be a dance; and Rico was to go over 
the lake to play there. So he could not 
spend the Sunday with Stineli and the 
others ; that had been talked over several times 
during the week for it was an event in which 
all were concerned, if Rico did not come, and 
Stineli tried her best to find a good side in the 
happening. “You go then in the sunshine 
over the lake and return under the star-covered 
sky, and we think of you the whole time,” she 
had told him when first he spoke of the dance 
Sunday. 

Rico came Saturday evening with his violin, 
for Stineli’s greatest joy was his playing. Rico 
played beautiful melodies one after the other, 
but they were all sad, and it seemed that they 
acted on the player, for he looked at his violin 
with a gloominess as if it did some harm to him. 

Suddenly he put away his bow long before it 
struck ten, and said: “I will go.” 

[ 141 ] 



THE STORY OF RICO 

Mrs. Menotti wanted to keep him, but she 
did not understand what he was thinking. 
But Stineli had watched him closely while he 
had been playing; now she only said, “I will go 
a few steps with you.” 

“No!” cried Silvio, “do not go away, stay 
here, Stineli.” 

“Yes, yes, Stineli,” said Rico, “stay here, 
and let me go.” With these words he looked 
at Stineli just as he had when he came from the 
teacher to the woodpile and said : “All is lost.” 

Stineli went to Silvio’s bed and said softly: 
“Be good, Silvio; I will tell you the funniest 
story tomorrow, about Peterli, but you must 
not make any noise now.” 

Silvio really did keep quiet and Stineli went 
after Rico. When they stood at the garden 
fence, Rico turned round and pointed to the 
brightly lighted room, which looked so home- 
like from the garden, and said: “Go back, 
Stineli; you belong there and are at home 
there, and I belong on the street, I am only a 
homeless one, and so it will always be; therefore 
let me go!” 

“No, no, I shall not let you go thus; Rico, 
where are you going now .5^” 

“To the lake,” said Rico, and went toward 
the bridge. Stineli went with him. When 
[ 142 ] 


CLOUDS ON THE GARDA LAKE 

they stood at the hillside, they heard the waves 
whispering softly below and they listened for a 
while, then Rico said: 

“You see, Stineli, if you were not here, I 
should go away at once, far away, but I should 
not know where. I shall have to be a home- 
less wanderer and play in taverns my whole life 
long, where there is an eternal tumult as if they 
were crazy, and I must sleep in a room, where 
I would rather never go in ; and you belong now 
to them in the beautiful house and I belong 
nowhere. And do you see, when I look down 
there, then I think if my mother had only 
thrown me into the lake, before she had to die, 
then I would not have become a homeless one.” 

Stineli had listened to Rico with a troubled 
heart, but when he said these last words, she 
had a great shock and exclaimed: “Oh, Rico, 
you must not say anything like that. I am 
afraid you have not prayed your Lord’s prayer 
for a long time, therefore these bad thoughts 
have come to you.” 

“No, I have not prayed it long since, I have 
forgotten it.” 

That was terrible news for Stineli. 

“If Grandmother knew that, Rico,” she 
lamented, “she would be in great trouble on 
your account. Do you know what she often 
[ 143 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

said: ‘He who forgets the Lord’s prayer, will 
suffer for it ! ’ Oh, come, Rico, you must learn 
it again, I will teach it to you. You will soon 
know it again.” And Stineli began and said 
with warm compassion in her heart, twice in 
succession, the Lord’s prayer to Rico. As he 
now followed the words, in deepest interest, 
Stineli noticed that there was much comfort in 
them for Rico, and when she had ended, she 
said: “You see, 'Rico, because the kingdom 
belongs to the dear Lord, so He can find a home 
for you, and to Him belongs also the power, 
that He can give it to you.” 

“Now you can see, Stineli,” said Rico, “If 
God had a home for me in His kingdom, and 
had the power to give it to me, then He does 
not want to give me a home.” 

“But you have to consider one thing,” Sti- 
neli continued, “the dear God may say to 
Himself: ‘If Rico wants to get something 
from Me, then he can pray for it and tell Me 
what he wants.’ ” 

Rico could not say anything against that. 
He was silent for a long while, then he said: 
“Say once more the Lord’s prayer, I will learn 
it again.” 

Stineli said it once more, then Rico knew it 
again, and had it well in his mind. Now they 
[ 144 ] 


CLOUDS ON THE GARDA LAKE 

went peacefully home, each side by side, and 
Rico must still think on the Kingdom and the 
Power. But in the evening, when he was in 
his quiet room, he prayed with his whole heart 
very humbly, for he felt that he had done 
wrong to think that God should give him 
what he wanted and he had never prayed for it. 

Stineli stepped thoughtfully into the garden. 
She was considering whether she should talk 
with Mrs. Menotti; perhaps she might find a 
different occupation for Rico, than this playing 
for dances in taverns, which was so distasteful 
to him. But the thought of troubling Mrs. 
Menotti with her affairs left her when she 
entered the room. Silvio lay as red as fire on 
his pillows, and breathed quickly and irregu- 
larly, and Mrs. Menotti sat by his bed and was 
weeping bitterly. Silvio had had again one of 
his attacks and great pain, and a little anger 
that Stineli was away might have increased the 
fever. The mother was more downcast than 
Stineli had ever known her. When finally she 
cheered up a little, she said: 

“Come, Stineli, sit down here beside me, I 
should like to tell you something. You see, 
something lies so heavily on my heart, that I 
often feel that I cannot bear it any longer. To 
be sure, you are young, but you are a sensible 
[ 145 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 
girl and have seen much, and I feelTit would 
ease me if I were to speak with you over my 
trouble. You see how it is with Silvio, my 
only son. Now I have not only the sorrow of 
his illness, which can never get better, but I 
must often tell myself, it is perhaps a judgment 
of God, because we have kept unjust possession 
and are enjoying it, although we did not wish 
to keep it. But I will tell you all from the 
beginning. 

“When we married, Menotti and I, — he had 
fetched me across from Riva, where my father 
is still living, — then Menotti had here a friend, 
who wanted to leave Peschiera because he had 
learned to dislike the place, for he had lost his 
wife. He had a cottage and a large piece of 
land, not especially good land, but a very large 
stretch. Then he wanted my husband to take 
care of everything, and said that the land did 
not bring in much, he should keep it in order 
and the house also, until he should return in a 
few years. 

“So the friends arranged it between them and 
they thought much of each other and they 
made no arrangement about interest. My 
husband said : ‘ You must have your affairs in 
order when you come back,’ for he wanted to 
look well after his friend’s belongings, and he 
[ 146 ] 


CLOUDS ON THE GARDA LAKE 

understood farming and his friend knew that 
and left everything to him. 

“But a year after he went, the railroad was 
built, the cottage had to go with the garden; 
and the field was needed, for the railroad ran 
over it. So my husband received much more 
money than the estate was worth, and he 
bought good land farther down, and the garden, 
and built this house, all from the money which 
he received for the cottage and the poor land. 
And the land brought in more than double, so 
that we have the richest harvest. But I said 
to my husband, ‘ It does not belong to us, and 
we live in plenty out of the estate of someone 
else; if we only knew, where he is!’ But my 
husband quieted me and said: ‘I keep every- 
thing in order for him, and when he returns, 
then everything is his and of the gain, which I 
put aside, he must have his share also.’ 

“Then Silvio came to us, and when I discov- 
ered that the child was paralyzed, I had to 
talk more and more to my husband and say: 
‘We are living in wrong possession, it is 
God’s punishment for our wrongdoing.’ And 
many a time it seemed to me such a load, that I 
almost would have preferred to be poor and 
without a roof. But my husband comforted 
me again and said: ‘You will see how satisfied 
[ 147 ] 


11 


THE STORY OF RICO 

he will be with me when he comes.’ But he 
never came. Then my husband died, four 
years ago; you cannot imagine what I have 
suffered since then, and I must always think, 
how can I get rid of the wrong possession with- 
out doing wrong, for I have to keep the estate 
in order until the friend returns. And then I 
wonder again, if he is now somewhere in 
misery, and I live meanwhile so well from his 
estate and know nothing about him.” 

Stineli had felt very sorry for the lady, for 
she could imagine so well how the woman felt, 
who accused herself of doing wrong and yet 
could not change it. And she comforted Mrs. 
Menotti and said to her, that if one did not 
wish to do wrong, and would so much like to 
make good, then one should pray with confi- 
dence to God and ask Him that He would 
help, for He could make something good out of 
that which we had made wrong, and He would 
do it if we were sorry for that, which we had 
made wrong. She knew all that from the 
grandmother, for she, Stineli, once had not 
known how to help herself and had suffered 
great fear. 

Then Stineli told about the lake which Rico 
always had had in his mind, and how it was her 
fault that he had run away, and how she then 
[ 148 ] 


CLOUDS ON THE GARDA LAKE 

had feared that he had perished. And she said 
that she had become happy again after she had 
prayed and had given all her care to the dear 
God, and Mrs. Menotti must do the same, then 
she would have a light heart, and she could then 
think always joyously: “Now the Lord has 
taken the thing in His hand.” 

Mrs. Menotti now came into a pious mood 
from Stineli’s words. She could go now peace- 
fully to rest, Stineli had made her very happy 
with her confidence in the Lord. 


[ 149 ] 


CHAPTER XX 
Rico Finds his Home 

the golden Sunday morning shone 
the garden with the red flowers, 
. Menotti stepped out of the house 
sat down on the bench near the 
je. She looked all around and had 
her own thoughts. Here the oleander flowers 
and the laurel hedge behind them, there the 
full fig-trees and the golden grapes among them, 
— then she said softly to herself : “ God knows 
I should be glad if the wrong were taken from 
my conscience, but I should find it nowhere so 
beautiful as it is here.** 

Now Rico came into the garden, he had to 
go away in the afternoon, and he could not 
stand it to be away the whole day without com- 
ing at all. Just when he was about going to 
the room, Mrs. Menotti called to him and 
said: 

“Sit down for a moment here with me; who 
knows how long we shkll sit here beside each 
other!** 

Rico was frightened. 

[ 150 ] 



RICO FINDS HIS HOME 

“Why, Mrs. Menotti, I hope you are not 
thinking of leaving.?’* 

Now Mrs. Menotti had to turn the conver- 
sation, she could not tell her story. There 
came into her mind what Stineli had said about 
Rico, but she had been so full of her own affairs 
that she had not understood it very clearly. 
Now it began to surprise her, since it came 
again into her mind. 

“Tell me, Rico,” she began, “were you here 
when you were a child so that you wanted to 
see the lake again, as Stineli told me yesterday ?” 

“Yes, when I was very small,” said Rico, 
“then I left.” 

“But how did you come here, when you 
were little?” 

“I was born here.” 

“What, here? What was your father, that 
he came down here from the mountains?” 

“He was not born in the mountains, only 
mother.” 

“Wliat are you saying, Rico? Your father 
was not from here?” 

“Yes, he was from here.” 

“You never have told that, that is so re- 
markable! You have no name from here; 
what was your father’s name?” 

“Like mine: Henrico Trevillo.” 

[ 151 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

Mrs. Menotti jumped up from the bench, as 
though something had struck her. 

“What do you say, Rico,” she cried, “what 
did you say just now?” 

“My father’s name,” Rico said quietly. 

Mrs. Menotti had not listened any more, she 
had run to the door. 

“Stineli, give me a shawl,” she cried into the 
house. “I have to go at once to the pastor. 
I am trembling in every limb.” 

Much surprised, Stineli brought the shawl. 

“Come a few steps with me, Rico,” said 
Mrs. Menotti on leaving, “I have to ask you 
something more.” 

Twice more Rico had to tell his father’s 
name, and at the pastor’s door she asked him 
for the third time, whether he was sure of it. 
Then she stepped into the house. Rico turned 
back and wondered over Mrs. Menotti’s 
behavior. 

Rico had brought his violin along, as he knew 
that it gave Stineli pleasure when he came with 
it. When he now arrived with it in the room, 
he found Silvio and Stineli in the best of moods, 
for Stineli, according to her promise, had told 
him the story of Peterli and by doing this, she 
had put herself and Silvio in the best of humor. 
When now the latter espied the violin he cried 
[ 152 ] 


RICO FINDS HIS HOME 

out : “ Now we will sing the Lambkins together 
with Stineli.” Stineli had never heard her 
song, since she had made it. Rico now played 
many beautiful melodies, and for a long time 
no one had thought of the song. 

But that little Silvio should wish to sing the 
song was a great surprise to Stineli, for she did 
not know how many hundred times Rico had 
sung the song to Silvio. Stineli was delighted 
that she should hear her song again and was to 
sing it with Rico. Now they began and 
Silvio sang along with all his might with- 
out understanding a word; he had learned 
the words by their sound and had kept them 
through the many repetitions. But this time 
the laughing was from Stineli, for Silvio pro- 
nounced some of the words so peculiarly that 
she could not sing for laughing, and when now 
Silvio saw Stineli laugh so with her whole face, 
he too began and then he sang still louder, so 
that Stineli had to scream from laughing, and 
Rico fiddled his “Lambkins come down” with 
all his might. 

So the singing laughter met Mrs. Menotti’s 
ears at a distance, when she was approaching 
her garden, and she could not comprehend how 
that could be in this eventful hour. She came 
hastily through the garden and stepped into the 
[ 153 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

room. She had to sit down on the first chair, 
for the fright and the joy, and the running and 
the expectation of all coming things had over- 
whelmed her, and she had first to collect her- 
self. The singers had become silent and looked, 
surprised, at the mother. Now she had her- 
self under control. 

“Rico,” she said, more solemnly than was 
her wont, “Rico, look around. This house, 
this garden, the fields, everything that you see 
here and that you cannot see from above to 
below, belongs to you. You are the owner, it 
is your paternal inheritance. Here is your 
home; your name is in the baptismal book, you 
are the son of Henrico Trevillo, and he was my 
husband’s dearest friend.” 

Stineli had understood everything at the 
first few words, and inexpressible joy spread 
over her face. Rico sat there like one turned 
to stone, and could not utter a sound. But 
Silvio, foreboding great fun, broke forth in 
loud rejoicing and called out: 

“Now everything all at once belongs to 
Rico! Where must he sleep?” 

“Must? Must? Silvio?” said the mother. 
“In every room, where he will; he can send us 
all three out of the house today, if he wanted 
to, and live in the house all alone.” 

[ 154 ] 


RICO FINDS HIS HOME 

“Then I would rather go out with you/* 
said Rico. 

“Oh, you good Rico!” exclaimed Mrs. Men- 
otti. “If you want to have us in the house, 
then we will gladly stay. Already on my way 
home I have thought out how we could arrange 
it. I could take half the house and so with the 
garden and the land, then half of all would 
belong to you, and the other to Silvio.” 

“Then I should give my half to Stineli,’* 
cried Silvio. 

“And I my half, too,” said Rico. 

“Oho, now everything belongs to Stineli,” 
rejoiced the little fellow from out of his bed, 
“the garden and the house and everything in 
it, the chairs and the tables and I and Rico and 
the violin. Now we will sing again.” 

But Rico did not consider the thing so easily 
settled as Silvio did. Meanwhile he had 
thought over Mrs. Menotti’s words and now 
asked hesitatingly: “But how could the house 
of Silvio’s father belong to me because he was 
my father’s friend?” 

Then Mrs. Menotti remembered that Rico 
knew nothing of the whole occurrence, and she 
began at once to tell the story and more com- 
pletely than she had told Stineli the evening 
before. And when she had finished, the three 
[ 155 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

understood and all three began to rejoice aloud, 
for there was no reason why Rico should not 
enter his home at once, and never leave it again. 
But in the midst of the rejoicing Rico said: 

“Because everything is now as it is, Mrs. 
Menotti, there need not be any change in the 
house, I come now also and am at home with 
you, and we remain together and you are our 
mother.” 

“Oh, Rico, that it is you, that it is you! 
How beautifully the Lord has arranged every- 
thing! That I have to surrender everything 
to you and yet may remain with a good con- 
science. And I will be a good mother to you, 
Rico, you will see, I have loved you long since 
like my own child. Now you must call me 
Mother, and Stineli, too, and we shall be the 
happiest household of all Peschiera!” 

“But now we must finish our song,” cried 
Silvio, who wanted to sing and rejoice, to have 
an outlet for his feelings, and Stineli and Rico 
began their song again, for they both were not 
less happy. But when they had finished, Sti- 
neli said: “I should like to sing a song with 
you, Rico, do you know which one?” 

“Yes, I know it,” answered Rico, “and 1 
will gladly sing it with you, and we will begin 
with grandmother’s verses,” and he began and 
[ 156 ] 


RICO FINDS HIS HOME 

sang so beautifully deep out of himself as he 
had never sung before, and Stineli sang with 
her whole heart with him : 

“ He never yet has made mistakes 
In His great government, 

No, what He does and lets be done 
For thy own good is meant. 

Then let Him rule, and further do 
Whate’er He may desire. 

Then thou wilt rest in peace on earth 
And joy thy soul acquire.” 

But Rico did not go to Riva that day. 
Mother Menotti had advised him to go at once 
to the Inn to tell the landlady of his changed 
position, to order a violin player to Riva and 
to move this very day into his house. This 
proposition pleased Rico, and he hastened to 
the town. The landlady listened to him with 
greatest surprise when he told her of the change 
in his fortune; when he was through, she called 
her husband and expressed great delight, and 
wished Rico every blessing in his new home, 
and it came from her heart. Then, too, she had 
become suspicious that the landlady of the 
“Three Crowns” was trying to get Rico away 
from her, and that would have broken her 
[ 157 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

heart. That could not now happen, and that 
Rico had become an estate-owner was a great 
joy to her, for she had grown very fond of him. 

And her husband had his special joy for he 
had known Rico’s father, and could not under- 
stand that it had never entered his mind, since 
Rico was the image of his father. So Rico 
took friendly leave of the people, and as the 
landlady shook his hand again at the door, she 
recommended her house in case Rico sometime 
wanted it for some great feast. 

The same evening everyone in Peschiera 
knew of the change that had come to Rico, and 
much more besides, and everyone wished him 
luck, and one said to the other: “He fits so 
well as master of his estate, as if he had been 
bom in it.” 

But Mother Menotti did not know how she 
could have everything good enough for the 
new owner. She made ready the large room 
upstairs with the two windows over the garden 
and over the lake; and from the walls pretty 
marble figures looked down on him, and on the 
table stood a large bunch of flowers, and the 
whole room looked so clean and festive that 
Rico stopped at the door, where Stineli had 
conducted him, and where he now was received 
by Mother Menotti. But when the latter took 
[ 158 ] 


RICO FINDS HIS HOME 

his hand and led him to the window where he 
could see the shining lake and the violet moun- 
tains at a distance, then Rico’s heart became 
so over-filled with gratitude and thanks that he 
could only murmur: “Oh, how beautiful! 
And now I may be at home!” 

In the room below with the open door into 
the garden the family spent happy, untroubled 
days so that they did not know how time 
passed. 

In the daytime Rico went with his whistling 
man over his estate, to the fig trees and to the 
corn, for now he must learn all about these 
things. And the servant thought: “I know 
more than my master,” and pride rose within 
him. But when in the evening, he leaned on 
the gate and listened for hours to the violin 
playing, then he thought: “My master knows 
more than I,” and had great respect for his 
master. 


[ 159 ] 


CHAPTER XXI 

Sunshine on the Beautiful Garda Lake 

[WO years had thus passed, always each 
day more enjoyable than the last. 
Then Stineli knew that the time of her 
departure had come, and she had to 
battle with herself that she did not lose 
courage, for to go away and perhaps never to 
come back, was the hardest thought that had 
ever oppressed her heart. Also Rico knew 
what now ought to be; and he did not say a 
word for days and days except what was neces- 
sary. Then it grew uneasy to Mother Menotti, 
and she tried to find out the unknown cause, 
for she had long since forgotten that Stineli was 
to be confirmed. When it now came out what 
the trouble was. Mother Menotti said quiet- 
ingly : “One can wait a year longer.” And so 
all lived another year in contentment and joy. 

But in the third year the message came from 
Bergamo that someone had come from the 
mountains, who had the order to take Stineli 
home with him. Now it had to be. Little 
Silvio acted like one possessed, but it was of no 

C 160 ] 


SUNSHINE ON THE GARDA LAKE 

use, nothing could be done against fate. 
Mother Menotti, the last three days, kept on 
saying: “Be sure you come back, Stineli; 
promise to your father whatever he wants, if 
he only will let you go.” 

Rico said nothing. So Stineli left, and 
from that day on, there lay a gray, heavy cloud 
on the house although the sun might shine as 
brightly outside as it was possible. So it re- 
mained from November to Easter, when all 
people rejoice, but in Rico’s house all was still. 
And when the feast was over, and in the gar- 
den everything was blooming, much more 
beautifully than ever before, then Rico sat one' 
evening at Silvio’s bed and played the saddest 
melodies which he knew, and made little 
Silvio quite melancholy, but all at once there 
came a voice from the garden which called out: 
“Rico, Rico, have you not a merrier reception 
for me?” 

Silvio screamed aloud like one beside him- 
self. Rico threw his violin on Silvio’s bed and 
rushed out. Mother Menotti rushed in from 
fright. There stood on the threshold Stineli 
beside Rico. And as her eyes laughed again 
into the room — there was again the long-lost 
sunshine; and there was such a joyous meeting 
as none of them could have imagined. Now 
[ 161 ] 


THE STORY OF RICO 

they sat again around the table by Silvio’s bed, 
and there was a questioning and reporting and 
telling, and then again a rejoicing over the re- 
turn, that one would have thought that nothing 
was lacking to these four people, for perfect 
happiness. But it was different with Rico. 
In the midst of all this joy he began suddenly 
to wonder, as he used to do, but it did not last 
long, he must have found a satisfactory decision, 
for suddenly the wondering had passed, and with 
the greatest firmness he said : “ Stineli has to be 
my wife right away, else she will leave us again, 
and we cannot bear it.” 

Silvio was at once full of enthusiasm for this 
new undertaking, and it did not take long, 
when all agreed that it must be so and could 
not be different. On the most beautiful day of 
May which had ever risen over Peschiera, a 
procession moved from the church toward the 
inn “At the Golden Sun.” First came tall 
Rico, walking stately along, at his side the 
bright-eyed Stineli with a crown of fresh 
flowers on her head, then came in a softly- 
bolstered carriage drawn by two joyous boys 
of Peschiera, little Silvio, beaming happily like 
a triumvir; then came Mother Menotti, deeply 
touched, in her rustling wedding splendor. 
After her came the gardener, with a nosegay 
[ 162 ] 


SUNSHINE ON THE GARDA LAKE 
which covered his whole chest, and now came 
the whole of Peschiera, in noisy enthusiasm, 
for all wanted to see the handsome couple and 
celebrate with them. It was a general family 
festivity of the people of Peschiera, now the 
lost and returned Peschieran was about to 
form a firmly-established home in his native 
town. 

The joy of victory of the landlady of the 
“Golden Sun** when she saw the procession 
arrive before her house, cannot be described; 
whenever afterwards any wedding, high or low, 
was talked of, she would say with superiority: 
“That is all nothing in comparison to Rico*s 
wedding in the ‘Golden Sun*.** 

The simshine never went away from the 
house in the flower garden, but Stineli took 
care that the Lord*s Prayer was never forgot- 
ten, and every Sunday evening the hymn of 
Grandmother resounded in bright chorus out 
into the open. air. 


[ 163 ] 






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